A Fall Through Time
by Ariel Riddle
Summary: A/U Tomione In a future dystopian society, Muggles are enslaved to their Pureblood masters who greedily drain the earth of its resources resulting in humans being on the brink of extinction. Muggleborns are hunted. Hermione must do what she does best-survive and adapt. Until that is, she is given an opportunity to go back to when it all started and rewrite history.
1. Chapter 1: Vlain

**Summary/Warnings:**

 **This is an A/U story with a total and complete disregard for the Harry Potter timeline. In a dystopian wizarding world set in 2092, Hermione finds herself enslaved to the Malfoys, living undercover as a Muggleborn. Despite growing up in a time when she is oppressed, she still teaches herself magic and her zest for life has not waned. With life on the planet on the brink of extinction thanks to dark wizards, all hope seems lost, until Hermione finds herself thrust into a world 300 years in the past, at the cusp of the rise of the dark wizards, and where she's actually in a position to change the horrible future from where she came.**

 **Inspiration: The Highlander series**

 **Rated M for violence, dark themes, profanity, and the occasional sexual situation. WIP.**

 **Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing of the Harry Potter world.**

* * *

 **~oOo*oOo~**

The sound of tinkling laughter echoed throughout the hidden isle, for the land of Fae could not be found by humans, nor even the haughty wizards who thought they ruled the known world. Vlain sneered at the thought of the wizards. They meant to control everyone in the magical world, even the Fae. He knew not why his queen opposed using force against the arrogant beings. She had even gone so far as to make a truce with one such powerful wizard—Merlin. Vlain remembered the day as though it were yesterday as time moved differently for the Fae.

The Fae had signed a treaty with Merlin using blood magic concerning the wizarding world, that they would not interfere with the realm of humans and wizards. All that concerned the Fae was their isle, hidden away off the coast of Ireland. They did not mate, so their population never exceeded the isle's boundaries. They did not die—at least not easily, so their immortal forms dwelled peacefully in the paradise they had built, concealed from the rest of the world. They drank from the elixir of eternal life, they danced under the pale moonlight, they made love to perfection as only the Fae knew how…and yet, still—Vlain found himself utterly discontented.

For who would have foreseen—surely not even Merlin himself—that the dark wizards that followed him would allow the world to befall such destruction? They raped the earth of its natural and plentiful resources, running it dry to further their own evil plans. They hunted the unicorns and the merfolk. The land grew infertile and was laced with dark magic. Only the untouchable isle of the Fae lay unspoiled by the rampaging dark wizards who lay waste to the entire world.

Those that could not stand up to them, that did not have a power of their own, became their slaves, from birth until the day they died. Vlain always had a weakness for such people. What really bothered him was that some of these— _Muggle-borns,_ as they called them—were as powerful as the dark wizards that oppressed them, if not more so. But years of oppression had taken its toll, and he wondered if there were any brave souls out there that could take on the dark wizards that reigned supreme.

These pompous wizards even attempted to mimic immortality. It was blasphemous, it was unnatural, and it angered Vlain. He had previously been known amongst his peers to be a troublesome, meddlesome Fae—but that was before the deal with Merlin. He longed for those days again. He had even been known to take his share of human women. Sure, they were not nearly as beautiful as the immortals in the land of Fae, but they likened him to a god, and they had passion, something he could feed on and almost feel the same _fear…wonder…excitement_ that they felt.

"Vlain," called his Queen in her lilting voice. "What worry mars your face?"

"Your Majesty," he bowed in deference, allowing her to stroke his golden shimmering hair. "It is the human world; it is on the brink of destruction, because of dark magic. How I long for the permission to call forth our formidable forces and put the arrogant wizards in their rightful place—in reverence before you."

"Ah, Vlain," she said, tossing a silvery lock of hair over her shoulder as her iridescent eyes assessed him. "Who cares if the world of the humans crashes and burns around us? The isle of the Fae lies untouched and nestled in safety. I admit, it was entertaining to watch the happenings of the human world. And it will be just as enjoyable to watch its end—the climax to the long play we have been observing these past millennia."

"But, Your Majesty," Vlain said beseechingly. "Surely you would allow me a slight interference, like the days of old? If the humans are all to die, what does the pact with Merlin matter?"

"Vlain," She rose from her relaxed state as her gaze turned icy. "I forbid you to directly involve yourself with human affairs."

Vlain felt the Queen's words lacing around him like a vice, he could not go against it even if he wanted to. He looked up at her face with trademark Fae features of indifference, as he met her iridescent orbs.

"Now, Vlain," she went on with a soft smile, "You know you have always been my favorite: so passionate, much like the humans we watch."

Yes, he knew, he thought snidely, she fed off him as he fed off the humans, until there was no passion left in him, and he was dry and empty. Fae were not known for their feelings.

"Come, warm my bed tonight," she invited, crooking her finger at the golden immortal.

Vlain strode up to her purposefully. As a direct order from his Queen, he dared not refuse. And after, he could think of a way around the Queen's previous order. He could not interfere _directly_ , but perhaps another could? One brave enough? One intelligent enough? One with magic? One wise enough to make the necessary tweaks here and there to prevent this horrible future from seeing fruition?

He would search for one such as this, for his Queen was right, the humans were entertaining and he was not ready to see their world end.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

 **September 2092**

"Hermione!" Draco Malfoy yelled. "Where is my dinner?"

"It will be along shortly, Master Draco," Hermione promised. Inwardly, she worried her master would not be pleased. Food was now so scarce in Britain, even Malfoy Manor could not escape unaffected.

Many of the carrots, cabbage, celery, tomatoes, and potatoes she'd gathered from the garden had been inedible, seemingly infected. _With dark magic,_ she thought sullenly. She had read about it of course. Draco did not know she could read, if he knew, she was sure books would not be so readily available to her; When Draco left for his missions with the Dark Lord, Hermione would pour over the many books Malfoy Manor boasted of. It was also how she learned to use magic.

She first discovered she was a magical being when she used _accidental magic -_ as one very old book called it. She was very young when the she first witnessed her mother being beaten, yet she immediately recognized it for the brutality that it was. She could not suffer to watch her it a moment longer. She felt something wild, a raging inside of her; It was palpable, raw power she felt setting her body on fire. As puzzled as her childhood self was to what was happening, she grasped onto one feeling above all others in the whirlwind of confusion; the power, and the instinctive feeling, that she could control it. Before she knew what had happened, that tumultuous whirlwind within her lashed out at her master, effectively throwing him out of the three story window.

Her mother looked scared; she knew what magic was, but she was even more concerned with the knowledge that her three year old daughter possessed it.

"You must conceal it, darling," she whispered soothingly. "No one need know what you can do."

Hermione nodded solemnly.

They fled that night. With Mr. Granger dead before Hermione was born, Mrs. Granger took her young daughter to the busy streets of London, where the begged and hustled each day away. After several years on the run, they were snatched up to serve the noble house of Malfoy. Hermione soon became an expert at concealing her magic. And little by little as the servants began dwindling off, one by one, from the Manor—her mother included—without being replaced, Hermione found herself one of the few that were left.

The books taught Hermione much. She knew of the pureblood elitist agenda to eradicate muggleborns and eliminate or enslave them, half-bloods and muggles as well. She knew it had not always been this way, that once Muggles did not even know magic existed in the world.

She taught herself how to use wandless magic. First, with simple spells that helped her with her household chores. Then, with old school books back when young witches and wizards were sent to schools to learn magic. She mastered most of those without a wand as well. Finally she turned her attention to dark books, what with the late Lucius Malfoy being part of the Dark Lord's inner circle, the Dark Lord made frequent visits to the house as Draco Malfoy had taken his father's place and the books were plentiful.

She needed to be a strong Occlumens. When Lord Voldemort came to Malfoy Manor it was routine for him to do a quick sweep of Leglimency in everyone's head. The dark wizard was over 300 years old and the most feared wizard in the world. Hermione could not block him, and she could not stave a direct attack, but she could implant things, boring things, _I am hungry…I hope I do not get beaten today…I wish we could go to Diagon Alley again this week, that shopkeeper always gives me a sweetie…I miss my sister_ …she didn't have a sister, but the thoughts were always so boring and inconsequential, Lord Voldemort did not pay her a second glance.

That coupled with the glamour she permanently erected, her pock stricken face and her naturally unkempt hair, she remained safely obscure from the death eaters that frequented her Master's home.

Yet not obscure enough—she still for some reason held Master Draco's attention.

"Hermione!" He yelled once more. "Really, what is taking you so long?"

She came into the dining area, sighing inwardly, abhorring the way in which he said her name. Draco Malfoy sat with a contemptuous sneer; lips pressed in a thin line as he tapped his goblet impatiently.

"I'm sorry Master Draco," she said apologetically. "Dean slaughtered the last cow a week ago and there was not much useable meat on the beast. Lady Malfoy said she would take it to be magically cured but until then, this is all I could cook with."

"I don't wish to hear excuses, Hermione," his tone bartered for no argument. "Put it here."

Hermione placed the steaming bowl of stew in front of him along with a chunk of sourdough bread she'd baked that morning then hastened to fill his tumbler with fire whisky. Draco watched her with a predatory gaze all the while.

Hermione attempted to break away from the table but her Master reached out pulling her by the waist tightly so she was half-made to sit on his lap.

"M-master Draco," she cried shrilly. "I thought you said you were hungry."

"I find myself hungering for something else just now," he said hoarsely dipping down his head to nuzzle her neck.

Hermione turned in his arms, placing both hands on his chest and pushing him roughly before clamoring to get up.

"I'd rather be under your torture curse than taken against my will," she declared hotly.

Draco stood angrily grasping his wand, "That can be arranged," he promised. " _Crucio_."

Hermione fell to the ground as an insurmountable pain gripped her roughly and she could not focus on anything else. Every nerve ending was on fire, and no matter how many times she fell victim to the _Cruciatus_ , it never got any easier to bear.

"You ungrateful wench," Draco was shouting at her now. "I am a wizard! You should be honored by my attentions to you. Life would be so much easier for you if you would simply take what I am offering, yet you always resist, why? Do you think you are better than me?"

Draco had lifted the curse and Hermione lie gasping on the floor attempting to regain her bearings.

"Do you?" He asked again.

"No."

"Then why? The world is ending in fire and blood, tainted with dark magic, only vile and evil things will remain to live off the dead land, what are you saving yourself for?"

"I have hope, Master Draco," she replied. "And you are evil too; you do nothing to stop them."

"Evil?" he asked sneering. "I have protected you, have I not? Oh yes, my filthy princess, I know you're a Mudblood."

Draco merely sat held his intense gaze, but his features softened imperceptivity. His hand reached forward tentatively and she closed her eyes in fear, but they flew open wide with shock as she felt his hand gently caress her cheek.

"I've always known," he went on quietly now as if he were admitting something hidden deep and dark in his soul. "Yet I said nothing. The others would torture you, play vile games with you, and I have protected you. It is not fair, for you to be so lovely but so…wrong."

"Do you still think it's wrong Master Draco? The blood purity, do you think it matters when we will probably be all gone in another hundred years if not less, anyway?"

"I do not know," he said sitting back in defeat. "I honestly don't. I wonder if things," he reached up to finger a curl and Hermione, flinched instinctively—expecting a blow. But none came and he sat there pondering for a while before finally continuing, "If they could have been different. Is that what it would have taken then? Me saving the whole world, challenging all the powerful dark wizards and over-throwing them, to gain your favor?"

"No," she said slowly. "You could have simply treated me like I wasn't scum all these years. Then…then maybe we could have worked together, to find a way…"

"I think you're foolish to believe in miracles. The only miracle that's happening now is me _not_ taking you as I have every right to."

Hermione recoiled at the threat.

"But I won't," he declared. "I have done many things I am not proud of, but _that_ I won't stoop to."

Hermione pulled herself up slowly and painfully, "Please, just let me leave."

"Alright," he allowed. "Just go."

Hermione made her way to the cellar. She felt his eyes on her back until she disappeared into the darkness below.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

Reading a book some nights later, Hermione reflected on how much more bearable life had become. Draco no longer abused or shouted at her since his rash declaration of _interest_ in her and allowed her to do the household chores in peace.

She was worried though, Draco had not answered his summons to appear before the other dark wizards, and he seemed to have given up, resigned to his fate.

Hermione found comfort in reading, and so she spent most of her free time doing just that. She currently sat reading a rather large historical tome on Pureblood heritage. This chapter was about the Lestrange family, a family that had died out tragically in the 19th century. Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange had been married and only had one daughter, Mildred H. Lestrange. The girl, commonly referred to as mad-Mildred, had died young from a broom accident according to her parents, yet the situation was questionable. It was unfortunate because Mildred was to be married upon direct order from Grindelwald himself. The tragedy ruined the Lestrange family as Rodolphus' unmarried younger brother Rabastan had an untimely end himself one month after before he was able to marry and carry on the family name.

Hermione had always been intrigued by the story, especially because the H in Mildred Lestrange's name stood for Hermione. She wondered what really happened to the Lestrange family and longed for the days of old, when one had nothing to worry about, except who to marry, and where to live, with nothing but a bright future ahead. What she also liked about the book was it was the only one left that had any mention of the Potter rebellion that had tried to overthrow Grindelwald.

During Lucius Malfoy's last days before the dragon pox took him, he rambled about many things, and Hermione had listened curiously to his mumblings when she tended to him. She learned that Potter was a half-blood wizard that had attempted to raise an army to overthrow Grindelwald, but they were betrayed by one of their own—a Peter Pettigrew before a battle that would have been the turning point in history.

Rabastan Lestrange died in an altercation with Potter and it was the only official mention Hermione could find in the book. She liked to think of what could have happened if Pettigrew had not betrayed the resistance, would the muggles and magical beings have lived in peace? Maybe Potter would have succeeded in killing Lord Voldemort before he attained horcruxes and then immortality. It was a pivotal time in history and Hermione lamented the cowardly decisions that had been made and the consequences they were now bearing because of it.

Hermione put her book away for the night. She could only check out from reality for so long. At some point she had to accept the fact that she lived in the here and now as much as she wished she didn't.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

Hermione woke up to a golden light in front of her. Startled its brilliance, she squinted into the light, barely able to make out a human-like form. The light seemed to dim somewhat and Hermione gasped at the most beautiful man she'd ever seen staring back at her. He looked other-worldly with his sparkling skin, pointed ears, golden eyes that matched his golden hair, and sensual lips.

"W-who are you?"

"I am Vlain of the Fae fair mortal," he spoke in a tinkling, melodious voice. "And I have chosen you as the witch to send back."

"B-but," she stuttered. "I'm not a witch, I am a Mudblood."

"A filthy word," he dismissed, waving his hand regally. "And one you must eradicate from your mind completely if you are to succeed."

Hermione had so many questions but decided on asking the most prominent ones, "Where do you want to send me, what am I supposed to do?"

His beautiful face tensed as he looked like he was trying to answer her but could not, "I cannot say, witch. I cannot interfere, you see," he smiled apologetically. Then, a wicked glint passed through his eyes. "But I can send you."

She gulped.

"First," he went on, "We need to get rid of the perturbing glamour you insisted on marring yourself with." With a snap of his fingers the pockmarks were gone from her face leaving smooth skin. "Much better," he nodded approvingly. "Now the hair…" he flicked his wrist and Hermione felt her frizzy, bushy hair fall lusciously conditioned past her shoulders, still slightly curling yet smooth and soft. "Very good. Now those muggle trousers. Do you own a dress? I cannot send you there in that."

"I don't have any dresses," she muttered sorrowfully.

"Well the shirt will have to do," he snapped his fingers turning it into a thin chemise. He tilted his head to the side, examining her before nodding approvingly. "That will do. I will check on you from time to time but I know you are more than capable to do what must be done. _They_ will be desperate and not ask very many questions."

"But Vlain, I-," Hermione was cut off as she became engulfed in a whirlwind of sound and light.

"Fear not, fair witch," Vlain's musical voice cut through the noise. "You already possess the strength to succeed."

Hermione opened her mouth to let out a scream, but just as suddenly as the chaos had started—it stopped and she landed with a thump on something soft and loud.

The man grunted underneath the weight of her.

"Oi," he said picking up the girl in his lap to unceremoniously dump her onto the ground. "Who is this then, coming to us in her skivvies, Bella."

A crazed woman came further into the dark parlor to assess the situation for herself. She eyed Hermione as she hastily got up on shaky feet and rubbed her backside.

"Who are you, girl," she asked snippily. "And what is the air doing opening up like that to let you fall on my husband's lap?"

"I-I'm not sure milady," Hermione mumbled opting for temporary memory loss until she could come up with a better plan. Her vision was blurring and she could see darkness in the corners of her eyes.

"From St. Mungos I'd wager," mumbled the raven-haired witch to her husband.

Hermione looked around the parlor before letting out a yelp at the sight of an apparently unconscious girl on the carpet.

"Who is that?" she asked, frightened.

"That," the man spoke. "Is Mildred. We told her she would be marrying Lord Riddle, she did not agree, so she was _Avada'd._ "

"My husband is known for losing his temper," the woman offered helpfully.

 _Lestrange...as in Mildred Lestrange?_

"And now we are in a pickle you see," Lord Lestrange said, getting up to stand by his wife's side. "Grindelwald wants a Lestrange married to Lord Riddle and a Lestrange he shall have."

"We cannot lose favor with the Dark Lord," Lady Lestrange murmured madly, absently twirling her wand. _She looks awfully comfortable with that wand_ , Hermione thought, struggling to stay afoot on wobbly feet.

"No indeed, we cannot, wife," Lord Lestrange agreed. Hermione eyed the duo cautiously.

"She looks about dear young Mildred's age," Lady Lestrange noted astutely. "And she's got magic, that I can sense."

"If she is a St. Mungo's escapee, everyone expects Mildred to be mad anyway, and no one has seen the little beast."

"Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Lady and Lord Lestrange advanced on the shell-shocked Hermione slowly as if approaching a lone hippogriff.

"You aren't going to _Crucio_ this one into insanity like you did the last, are you?" He asked.

"I'll be nice to this one," she promised innocently.

"Young lady," Lord Lestrange said turning to her. "What did you say your name was?"

"Um-," Hermione faltered.

"It doesn't matter," he waved off. "Let me make introductions. We are Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange—your parents. And you are Mildred Lestrange—our daughter."

"And," Bellatrix went on sweetly. "We have made quite a match for you dear. You are to be married to Lord Riddle two days hence."

Hermione could not keep the blackness at bay and promptly succumbed to the welcoming bliss of nothingness.

The Lestrange's watched their newly declared daughter faint onto their carpet next to their old one.

"Well," said Lady Lestrange. "She took the news better than the old Mildred."

"Yes. Do you suppose she has family that will be coming for her?"

"The silly girl dropped on top of you out of thin air. It couldn't have been Apparation; our wards were not even broken. No, no one is looking for her. _Something_ about her says she is out of place. But I do not care, I do not care if she's a half-blood, Mudblood, St. Mungos patient, vampire…I saw something I didn't like when you _avada'd_ Mildred, I saw the end of our line, and we mustn't let that happen."

"I agree, wife. We cannot fall out of favor with Lord Grindelwald. That is all that matters."

 **~oOo*oOo~**


	2. Chapter 2: Hermione Lestrange

**~oOo*oOo~**

Tom was not in the best of moods. Having recently received the news he would be forced to marry the mad Lestrange girl had not been the easiest potion to swallow. He'd yet to come to terms with the Minister's decision on the matter.

He was still unsure if Gellert wasn't merely targeting him. His half-blood status wasn't exactly a secret, and it wasn't really something Abraxas, Cassiel, or Rabastan would ever bring up in his presence, but the Minister was never so considerate.

He had proven that he was as strong as any Pureblood, if not stronger, performing intricate and powerful spells at a tender age. He could trace his lineage back to the Great Salazar Slytherin, and was the last Slytherin heir, and yet Gellert still held him in contempt because of his blood status. Tom clenched his fists subconsciously at the reminder of the blatant disrespect he was forced to endure.

 _One day,_ he promised himself, _I will no longer take orders from him. There will be no need to suffer the haughty stares from these Purebloods who think themselves superior than me yet would never admit it aloud. I will crush them, I will crush them all, and Lord Voldemort will take their place._ He smiled inwardly at the oath. He was jostled from his thoughts by the sound of Abraxas clearing his throat _._

"What is it, Abraxas?"

"It's Potter, Tom," The tall, blond said inclining his head. "He encroaches on our lands; he's been spotted camping not far from here, near the Burrow."

"He is of no consequence to us," Tom shrugged his shoulders flippantly. "Potter leads a group of misfits with no chance to do any real damage. I will not waste another moment speaking of him; I have more important things to consider."

"Yes, Tom," Abraxas murmured in agreement but the tall, blond remained standing.

"Was there something else?"

"Well," he began tentatively. "The Lestrange girl…"

"Ah, yes, Rabastan's niece. What of her?"

"She will be arriving two days hence, were there any arrangements you wished to be made for her?"

"Like what?" Tom snapped.

"L-like her rooms?" Abraxas stammered, insolence flashing through his gaze. "I am not sure, maybe where she will be staying?"

"Put the girl in the barns with the horses for all I care. No, there are no _other arrangements_. Now if you will kindly stop bothering me..."

"Yes, Tom," Abraxas fidgeted before stiffly turning to leave.

"Abraxas," He said halting the man as his curiosity got the best of him. "Surely Rabastan has seen his own niece?" He asked with an edge of curiosity lacing his tone.

Abraxas flushed complexion told Tom all he needed to know.

"No?" Tom questioned. "How is that even possible—did she not go to school with the other girls of her age?"

"Rabastan says his brother and sister-in-law kept the girl hidden away in her room. She was prone to seizures and fits in her childhood, so she missed her school years. She received private tutelage from her parents."

Tom nodded. Of all the women Gellert could have assigned him, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Olive Hornby—he _would_ choose the mad one.

"She must be quite atrocious, for her parents to lock her in her room all these years," Tom commented, resigned to his lot.

"Who can say, Tom?"

"Clearly, I have done something to vex Gellert. Why else would he see fit to make me this match?"

"Or maybe the Lestrange family is being rewarded," Abraxas placated. "It is possible he promised them a worthy match for their daughter, and who is more worthy than you Tom?"

Tom merely nodded before lighting up his cigar, taking a big intake of the heady smoke before letting it billow out around him in a swirl of curls.

So he would be tied down to a wife? What did it matter how she looked—so long as she stayed out of his way. He had plans to set in motion, plans nothing and no one would interfere with. The world may not remember Tom Marvolo Riddle, but they would come to fear Lord Voldemort.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

"You-hoo!" Hermione was rudely awoken by a loud woman straddling her and with a surprise jolt, she recognized the crazed eyes and wild hair of Bellatrix Lestrange. She was still lying on the Lestrange parlor floor. But Rodolphus was gone and so was their daughter.

"Dear Merlin," Hermione moaned. "So it wasn't a dream."

"No dear, it was not," Bellatrix informed her drily. "I'm going to be your mummy now, and mummy has quite a day planned out for you, dear."

"What did you do with the… _old Mildred_ ," Hermione whispered before Bellatrix rushed to clap a hand over her mouth.

"Hush, dear," she whispered sharply. "You mustn't speak of that again."

Bellatrix studied Hermione's face for a sign she understood. The girl nodded. Bellatrix smiled happily. "Now dear, it is time for a day out on the town."

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she followed the energetic witch to her chambers, presumably.

"To Diagon Alley of course," Bellatrix said. "You need a wand and dresses to fit you. Until then you can wear one of mine and we will just magically alter them to fit. Clearly you cannot wear that chemise everywhere." She giggled manically and Hermione had the urge to lurch back in a panic, but steeled herself.

"Yes ma'am."

"Yes, mother," Bellatrix corrected.

"Yes, mother," Hermione amended.

"Now then, try on this one," Bellatrix handed Hermione a black dress.

"It's dreadfully Gothic," Hermione complained. "And this corset will take days to lace up."

"Nonsense," Bellatrix dismissed the girl's worries. "We have magic after all."

With a wave of Bellatrix wand, Hermione was dressed in no time. She looked like a taller, lighter, less-crazed version of Bellatrix herself.

"There," Bellatrix said approvingly. "Now you look like my daughter. How old are you anyway?"

"I believe I'm twenty," Hermione answered honestly.

"Hmm. My Mildred was seventeen so you will have to act a wee bit younger."

"Alright. Er, I mean, I can do that," Hermione said, remembering to speak in a more proper tone. "How old is Lord Riddle?"

"He is twenty-five, and he is the most eligible bachelor in all of Britain."

"I have never heard of him."

"Well, you haven't heard of much, have you, you daft girl? Now come, let's be off. I've always wanted to shop with my daughter."

Hermione followed behind the petite, high-spirited women as they climbed into the carriage.

"So you never let Mildred leave the house?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I thought I told you not to bring it up," Bellatrix snapped, a flash of anger flittered across her face, but her features softened quickly and she sat back once more. "I was never cut out to be a mother you see, but the late Lady Lestrange insisted upon an heir. I am not the nurturing type."

Hermione nodded. _You don't have to convince me of that!_

"What does one do when one's child acts up and throws fits? I'm sure I don't know, so I had my own way of dealing with it."

"By cursing her," Hermione deadpanned.

"Yes," Bellatrix admitted. "I cursed the old Mildred. It was the only way I knew of dealing with insubordination."

Hermione leaned forward, looking up into the haughty, yet so child-like face of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"If you even try to curse me, I'll hex you with curses you've never even heard of, and I don't need a wand to do it."

"There is no need to be nasty," Bellatrix said diplomatically. "You need help and we need help, so let us help each other."

"Fine, I will not speak of it again, _mother_."

Bellatrix squealed in delight.

"Oh this will be great fun. Come, I have always wanted for it to be like this with my daughter!"

Hermione let the energetic woman lead her around a Diagon Alley that looked vastly different from what she remembered. Both the city and the countryside were night and day from what she remembered; she was surprised by all the greenery she saw and the lush farmlands. The landscape was entirely different in her time. She spotted a newspaper, _the Daily Prophet_ , and picked it up before it flew further down the road.

 _October 20, 1842_ , she read. So she'd traveled back 250 years. The thought was staggering. On the front cover, in a black and white moving photograph, the likeness of a strikingly handsome man with dark features grasped Hermione's attention. She looked at the heading: _Lord Riddle to marry Mildred Lestrange_. The article mentioned that the Lestrange girl was a secretive recluse and that no one knew very much about her. Hermione felt herself at the center of quite the intrigue—the mysterious and rumored to be mad recluse set to marry the most eligible bachelor in town, the way Bellatrix told it.

As she gazed around at the people walking along the road in their billowing capes and fluttering dresses, she was struck with the sense that she felt largely out of place in this time. She did not think she could ever get used to it, having lived through and seen what she had. She could not begin to fathom what the mysterious Fae had expected her to accomplish, but would not think of it now lest she overwhelm herself. She must first allow herself to become comfortable in this new world, however decadent and abundant life was, exactly the opposite of what she was used to.

If the bright mudblood from the future needed to play the part of a daft Pureblood princess in the past—she would do so, and she would do it _well_.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

The sound of a carriage pulling up on the gravel in front of Riddle Manor could be heard in the parlor where Tom sat flanked by his closest confidants.

"Cheer up, darling," said Daphne Greengrass perched comfortably on his lap. "You are Lord of this house, and if the Lestrange girl possesses even half her wits she will come to understand her place rather quickly."

Rabastan shifted uncomfortably on the settee. Abraxas shot him a look as he paced in front of the fireplace.

"Of course, pet," Tom said bestowing her with a smirk. Daphne preened under his attention.

"It could be like one of those muggle romance books Daphne likes to read," Cassiel said.

"I read no such things," Daphne said, blushing.

"Sure you do," Nott continued his teasing. "You know, the ones where the mad wife is locked away in a tower and the mistress rules the manor?"

"Hush," Abraxas hissed. "Now is _not_ the time. Besides, we have a Lestrange amongst us, don't act as crass as a blood-traitor."

"I don't mind, Cas," Rabastan was quick to clarify. "I rarely talk to my brother anymore. He and Bella keep to themselves. My allegiance is with you all, you know that."

Tom had long since stopped listening to his bickering companions. He got up, dislodging Daphne from his lap as he strode purposefully to the window, staring at nothing in particular.

"Tom," Daphne said, coming up behind him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You know I don't desire to 'rule' anything, I only wish to stay by your side."

Tom nodded automatically, resisting the urge to light up another cigar so soon.

"Yes, Daphne, you know your place." He turned back towards the window, muttering to himself more than to the others. "My soon-to-be wife will learn hers as well."

"Ahem," said Leo, the Riddle butler. "The Lestrange's your lordship." He stepped aside and Lady Lestrange came into view first, striding purposefully towards Tom.

"Lord Riddle," she greeted him enthusiastically. "It has been far too long."

"Lady Lestrange," Tom greeted her cordially.

"Lord Riddle," she said slapping him playfully on the arm. "You know you can call me Bella. We are going to be family after all."

"Bella," Tom said attempting to disguise his discomfort. The woman put him ill at ease. She shot a disapproving look at Daphne but quickly concealed it. Tom looked behind her to see the mysterious Lestrange girl, but all he could catch a glimpse of was pale blue fluttering behind the large figure of Rodolphus Lestrange who now came right up to Tom and grasped his hand in a firm shake.

"Lord Riddle," he said.

"Lord Lestrange," Tom welcomed him.

"This," Rodolphus said as he turned to beckon the girl behind him. "Is our daughter, Mildred."

Tom finally saw the object of his wandering thoughts, and she rather surprisingly took his breath away. The girl was slight, with soft womanly curves her light blue gown did little to conceal. Her milky white skin was flawless giving way to high cheek bones, her pink lips were petulant at the moment, but still beautiful. Her chestnut curls plunged past her shoulders hanging loosely and adorned with a simple bow. She looked rather innocent. However beautiful were her features, it was her eyes, chocolate brown orbs, that really captivated him. They were warm and bright, and he could swear he saw a flash of intelligence, the eyes of someone that had seen much in her young years, which were flanked by a thick rim of dark lashes. They seemed to bore right through him and he was mildly stunned. Initially, she was not what he expected. He suddenly felt rather silly for suggesting Abraxas place her in the barns.

"Come here, Mildy," Bellatrix beckoned. "Don't be shy, my girl!"

The girl stepped tentatively closer with an unreadable expression on her face. This close, Tom could make out a splash of freckles attractively gracing her nose.

He mentally made to shake himself before reaching for the girl's hand to place a chaste kiss on the palm of it. He felt a pleasurable jolt at the contact.

"Miss Lestrange," he said in what he was sure was his most charming voice. "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

The girl looked up at him quietly, and she slowly dragged her hand away. Tom was entranced and she had not even uttered a single word. He had yet to find out if there was awareness behind those pretty eyes. So far, she seemed akin to a harmless kitten.

Daphne quickly made to interject herself into the conversation, despite their earlier discussion. It seemed she did not like the way Tom was looking at his soon-to-be wife.

"Mildred, dear," she said sweetly. "Hello, I'm Lady Greengrass. I must say, it's a pity we were denied your company at Hogwarts. It would have been so lovely to have met you before. Tell me, was there another school you attended, Beauxbatons perhaps?"

His intended seemed to be assessing the girl quietly, completely neglecting to answer the question. _Ah, so she is daft_ , thought Tom, _pity that._

"My dear girl, are you daft? Why do you not answer me?" Daphne asked, Tom could only wonder at her crassness. "People will think you a fool incapable of speech, you know."

Mildred's eyes flashed dangerously. There was a determined glint in her gaze as she opened her mouth to speak.

" _Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt_ ," Mildred said in a lilting voice.

The group stood mouths agape, as they peered at Mildred.

"Are you quoting a muggle president?" asked Cas in surprise.

"You seem quite at ease with muggle quotes, sir," she deflected easily and through his shock upon hearing her clever remark, Tom could barely suppress a smirk. _So this kitten came to play?_

"Mildred," Bellatrix cried. "Mind your manners!"

"Mother," Mildred said, sweeping through the room to sit daintily on the sofa and graciously accept the tea Leo offered her. "You know I do not like to be called that."

"Well, Mildy, I'm your mother, I suppose I can call you what I wish to call you," she stated absently, sitting down beside her.

"Here they go again," Rodolphus said looking over to his brother Rabastan for sympathy.

It was all Tom could do to watch the spectacle before him, quickly schooling his features with practiced ease as he strode to sit opposite of Mildred. Daphne made an audible huff and remained standing, folding her arms over her chest.

"Well dear, she was being rude," Bellatrix explained, addressing her husband.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, Miss Greengrass, was I being rude?" She asked sweetly putting down her tea cup carefully on the tray. Daphne truly did look green now and could only sputter before she was cut off. "I was privately tutored by my illustrious parents, in answer to your question."

"She had a rather unfortunate incident with accidental magic," Rodolphus explained with a conspiratorial wink. "We thought it best if we taught her ourselves."

"Yes," Bellatrix agreed. "At a rather young age too. But strong magic does run in the Lestrange family."

"What was it?" Cas asked intrigued. "The accidental magic."

"Why," Mildred began sweetly. "I threw Father out of the third floor window of our house when I caught him kissing mother. I did not know what they were doing, you see."

In the midst of several loud guffaws, Rodolphus stared daggers at everyone who dared snicker, including his brother who merely swallowed uncomfortably at the repreive. Bellatrix laughed in utter abandon. Mildred joined in, giggling—quite _evilly_ , alongside her mother.

"Took more than a few _Episkys_ to fix him up, didn't it?" Bellatrix added.

"I don't remember, mother, I was a mere child."

"Powerful," Bellatrix turned to Tom. "The Lestrange magic runs very powerful. Your children are bound to be great wizards."

Tom swallowed audibly, his plans for the evening in complete shambles—he needed to get a grip on the situation and quickly.

"Miss Lestrange," he began but Hermione cut him off with a sharp look.

"Hermione," she said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I like to be called Hermione."

"My apologies, I hadn't realized," he replied smoothly, even though the girl was doing a rather thorough job of putting him off balance.

"Mildred Hermione Lestrange is her full name, dear," Bellatrix clarified for him. "She has always been partial to it."

"Right, well-," he was cut again by Lady Lestrange.

"So, Tom, the wedding. Have you secured the venue? I know we have only had a week, but still I assume there have been _some_ preparations."

"Well, that is to say…Abraxas, tell the ladies what you have come up with," Tom said, placing the responsibility squarely on his friend.

Abraxas flushed an unattractive shade of red.

"Well, we er, we were discussing the possibility of an outdoor wedding, by _the barns_ ," he emphasized the last two words.

"We decided," Tom corrected.

"That's right, decided," agreed Abraxas.

"But we've changed it to the gardens," Tom continued, imbuing his friend to practically read his mind.

"What about the flower arrangements?" queried Bellatrix.

"Coming tomorrow," Abraxas said, finally catching on to the game. "We want them fresh, of course."

"Of course," agreed Tom. "But there is still time to make amendments, any special requests?"

"I quite like lilies," Hermione said softly.

"Lilies it is. What of the food?"

"I'm not overly picky," she said, smiling to herself.

"She likes lemon bars," said her mother.

"Right. Well, there is much to do," Tom stated. "Let me allow Leo to show you to your quarters."

"Yes," Daphne said, her unwelcome voice chiming in once more. "It is best you stay there and do not stray, what with the state of unrest on the Riddle and Malfoy estates."

"What is this unrest you speak of?" Bellatrix asked, clearly irritated at the woman.

"The Potter-campers, of course," Daphne explained. "They litter the area."

"I've heard of this _resistance_ ," Rodolphus said with a sneer. "I have also understood you to be an accomplished wizard, Tom. Have you yet to take care of these squatters?"

"They are nothing of consequence," Tom said, resisting the urge to grip his wand and instead clenching his fists in irritation. _To be questioned, and in my own house, no less!_ He would definitely need some moments alone to get his bearings after this meeting.

"If they are of no consequence, they will be easy to eradicate," Bellatrix said, pointing Tom in the chest.

Tom swallowed back his rage. "Good day Lady Lestrange, Lord lestrange…Hermione."

He quite liked the way her name sounded on his tongue, it suited her much better than Mildred.

"Good day, Lord Riddle," she smiled back shyly.

"Tom," he corrected her.

"Tom."

Having never quite appreciated his muggle name, hating the way it sounded quite ordinary, there was something about the way she said it that made him like it very much. The look in his eyes was uncharacteristically soft as he watched his betrothed go.

"Well," Cas said awkwardly, breaking the silence. "That was... _unexpected_."

"Quite," agreed Tom.

"Should I still prepare the lady's quarters in the barns?" Abraxas asked feigning innocence.

Tom shot him a look before glancing meaningfully at Rabastan.

"Come," Rabastan offered Daphne his arm, understanding Tom's silent command. "Let me escort you home."

"Very well," Daphne sighed, delicately reaching up to place a swift kiss on Tom's cheek. "I will see you tomorrow at the wedding?" It was more a question than a statement.

"Of course," said Tom. "Tomorrow."

Daphne and Rabastan left. Tom turned to face his remaining friends.

"It appears gentlemen," he began. "That my nuptials will require a bit more effort, Lady Lestrange demands it," his lips curled viciously. "Leo, put all the kitchen staff to work. Make sure they do their best job tonight as well as tomorrow, and there had better be some lemon bars on the menu. Abraxas, we need to have all the farmhands we employ gather all the flowers they can, especially lilies, I want the servants making arrangements with them tonight. Cas, it is your job to make the wedding known tomorrow. Make sure everyone that is anyone will be in attendance."

Cas smiled knowingly at him.

"What is the reason for that pathetic smile, Cas?" Tom asked dangerously.

"You've changed your mind, about the wedding," he said. "Because the girl, she turned out to be pretty, and…not daft."

"And with the potential to breed powerful sons," added Abraxas.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Tom replied smoothly. "The girl is not what I had initially expected, but-."

"But?" asked Cas.

"But I simply had a change of heart about the importance due to the festivities surrounding my wedding."

The men snickered quietly. Tom went on undeterred.

"It is true, after all, if I am to take over the wizarding world, my nuptials should be more than a mere barnfest, do you not agree?"

His friends nodded their consent.

"Well then, gentlemen, let's get started. We have a lot to do," Tom said. "And do send some scouts out to assess the Potter situation. I'd like to get an accurate idea of what their numbers really are."

Cas looked over to Abraxas who was laughing. "That will not be a problem," Abraxas assured him. "We already have an inside man."

 **~oOo*oOo~**

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 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed the update C: Please let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3: Politics at the Dinner Table

**A/N:  
Thanks everyone for the reviews/follows/favorites! It's awesome to see people are interested in this story. This chapter came a little late, (I aim for once a week) but I am already working on the next one. I am excited to see what you guys think, so please leave me a critique with your constructive criticism/feedback if you feel so inclined! There is a little line in here that I was inspired to put from something JK Rolling tweeted, about in the 1960's muggleborns being forced to sit in the back of the Hogwarts Express (I reblogged it on my tumblr). Also, my account links are all on my profile but you can find me basically on anything by searching Ariel Riddle.**

 **I did make a album for this on photobucket, and you can see my casting ideas and scenery suggestions here** :  
 **photo bucket dot com /user/Ariel_Riddle/profile/**

 **Happy reading and hope to connect with some more of you!**

* * *

 **~oOo*oOo~**

Closing the blue curtains behind her canopy bed, Hermione allowed herself a brief reprieve from the eventful afternoon letting her exhausted body fall backwards on the luxurious bed.

Back at Malfoy Manor, she had never been accustomed to such luxury, spending her life in the dark and dingy dungeons. Leo had led her to "the Blue Room" and she found the quarters quite to her liking. Never having had much to call her own, it was easy to get caught up in the opulence of her surroundings.

Her ' _parents'_ were in the guest quarters directly down the hall. They had only parted ways minutes before, Bellatrix still insisting on calling her Mildy, as if it were some well-used pet name, and Rodolphus scowling at the way his wife and daughter had embarrassed him.

Hermione was not surprised by the way in which she had taken her predicament in stride, for she had always been good at adapting to new situations regardless of the circumstance. She was however, surprised at the comradery she was starting to feel towards her new parents. In only two days, she had learned much about them, the first and foremost being that they were indeed quite mad. It was easy to see how Bella could have tortured her daughter into insanity and Rodolphus had _Avada'd_ her; patience was not a viritue they seemed abundant in.

As easy as it was to get along with her parents, she found it much more difficult to navigate through her interactions with the mysterious and unsettling Lord Riddle.

The thought of the dark Lord of Riddle Manor, brought shivers down her spine. It had been quite intimidating to walk into an unfamiliar house with the expectations that were upon her. She was no stranger to living in mansions, but only in a position of servitude. She was to become this man's wife, and what a fine specimen of a man he was. The newspaper clipping really had not done him justice: a strong chiseled jaw made up a decidedly aristocratic face that radiated rugged masculinity, his silky dark locks were styled perfectly, and he had the most intense dark blue eyes that seemed to have the uncanny ability to cut straight through her.

Hermione flushed at the memory of how she had simply stared stupidly at him as he lifted her hand ever so gently, placing a chaste kiss on it. Hermione could not deny the jolt of electricity that had seemed to pass through her at his touch. It had taken her by surprise and she was still recovering from the shock of it when the atrocious Greengrass girl had chosen that moment to speak.

Hermione had merely evaluated her silently, neglecting to respond to whatever she had asked _. So this is my competition_ , she had thought sizing the girl up. It was clear she was Riddle's mistress and Miss Greengrass had wanted to make sure everyone knew it.

She was not surprised that Lord Riddle had a mistress; he had probably gone through quite a few lovers as was normal for the Purebloods.

What she had not been prepared for, however, was the resigned awareness of everyone in the room who seemed to take her for daft. She realized staring like a fool hadn't helped that perception. The thought had effectively shaken her out of her stupor.

At least she had thrown them all off by the way she had presented herself that day. While shopping with Bellatrix the day before, her mum had suggested shades of black or dark colors for her new dresses, but Hermione had insisted on the light blue muslin. Her body was lithe and athletic if not slightly skinny from years of malnourishment, and the pale blue would do much to conceal this while the darker colors would have emphasized it. And now she had a little more time to pack on some pounds, she feared her harsh, gaunt features and pale complexion would bring about unwanted questions. She needed to soften her features and adopt the look of a proper Pureblood lady.

She had allowed herself some time to assess the people in the parlor before them. Behind Riddle and Miss Greengrass, she recognized two men who were most assuredly a Nott and a Malfoy. Even with 300 years difference she could spot the resemblance to their future relatives, which she had come to know so well, Theodore and Draco. Bella had told her about Cassiel Nott and Abraxas Malfoy. Riddle seemed to like surrounding himself with men as handsome, powerful and influential as himself. Cassiel had the same high-born haughty look as Theodore and Abraxas had the same platinum hair as Draco, though he was slightly burlier. Rabastan was easy to recgnize as well, and not just through a process of elimination. He bore an uncanny resemblance to Rodolphus, her father, although a younger more fearsome version.

Hermione had realized that she had just been challenged, and not even subtly so. She impulsively decided then, to ditch the plan to play the silly Pureblood lady, and went straight for the jugular. The effect brought her instant gratification. Bellatrix giggled in delight—she had learned her new mother thrived off of these episodes, and her crass comments had surely caused some jaw dropping. After that performance, she was running on adrenaline, and she settled comfortably into this new role she was creating for herself. She quite liked to see the proper Lord Riddle squirm in discomfort. Shame on him for having such low expectations of her.

Sure, she did not know what exactly she was supposed to do in this time or why the Fae had sent her here. How could _she_ possibly change anything? But until it became clearer what was expected of her, Hermione would not allow herself to be a victim in this new time. No, in this time she would have some semblance of control. Resigned to her new, and much improved lot in life, she allowed herself to take a small nap.

She felt like she had merely closed her eyes for but a few moments when she heard someone pounding on her door. In a huff, Hermione forced herself to leave the comfort of the soft and welcoming bed and opened the door. Bellatrix stood there, mischievously twirling her wand.

"Mum," Hermione chided. "I thought you were going to give me some time to nap?" She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Yes, dear Mildy," Bellatrix sauntered confidently in the room ignoring Hermione's chastising. "And it's been two hours, hasn't it? Why it's nearly time for supper. We need to get some training in before we change and go back down."

Cautiously, "Training?"

"Well, yes," Bellatrix ran her fingers along the blue floral wall paper of the room. "Quite ugly isn't it? I wouldn't think Tom has such questionable taste."

"I quite like it, actually," Hermione said. "Now the training?"

"Oh yes," Bellatrix said as if remembering, Hermione was beginning to see how quickly she could lose focus. "You are a Lestrange now, and our family has always been well-versed in wielding powerful magic, yet you are not nearly where you need to be with a wand."

"Yes, well, my wandless magic is unsurpassed," she said defensively.

"That is all very well, but it's quite odd," Bellatrix said. Hermione tried not to bristle at the reprieve. She was proud that she could perform wandless magic and was sure, given time, she could master magic with a wand as well.

"It will never do to have a lady not know how to use her wand. Wandless magic, will just make people uneasy. No, we must practice; you have a lot to learn and very little time to learn it."

Hermione nodded. She had soon learned that, however crazy Bella could be, she was right about some things—including her concerns with Hermione's knowledge of wandless magic. But so far she hated these lessons. Learning new skills usually came very easily to her. Tentatively, Hermione picked up the 10 ¾ inch long vine wood wand, examining the offensive piece of wood.

"Now, don't look at it like _that,_ Mildy," Bellatrix warned. "You are quite powerful without a wand, but once you learn how to channel your magic through your wand, you will find the power will only be strengthened. Now point it at that vase over there."

Hermione sighed as she reluctantly complied, attempting to force the magic through the wand. " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," she said, enunciating the words clearly. "Nothing's happening."

"Your pronunciation is right and your wand movement is good, what you need to work on is channeling the magic, pretend the wand is an extension of you, simply a tool to use to strengthen the force beyond the spell, then try again."

Hermione took a deep breath then attempted the spell once more. This time the vase actually lifted… before crashing to the floor.

"Very good, Mildy," Bellatrix praised, as she quickly fixed the broken porcelain with a flick of her wand. "Now try it again, you are getting it—I can tell."

Under Bellatrix's tutelage, Hermione found that she was making great progress. All too soon, it was time to break for the evening's meal. The girls hastened to get dressed and then joined Rodolphus as they made their way to the dining room.

"What was all that noise you two were making?" Rodolphus asked.

"Just getting ready, daddy," Hermione said teasingly.

"Yes well, you might have cast a _Muffliato_ at the very least. The whole house was shaking for Slytherin's-sake."

"There was no need to bother," Bella said waving her hand. "They most certainly wouldn't have noticed, you should see how busy everyone in this house is preparing for tomorrow. It is quite amusing actually."

"I wasn't worried about them," Rodolphus said, annoyance apparent in his voice. "I was trying to get some rest."

"Oh dear," Bella said soothingly. "You can get enough of that when you're dead."

Rodolphus rolled his eyes at his wife's morbid declaration.

"Mother," Hermione said ignoring their bickering. "We didn't get a dress for me at our shopping excursion yesterday—for the wedding I mean."

"Oh you do not need one dear," Bellatrix waved her off. "You will wear the Lestrange wedding dress, of course."

"Of course," Hermione muttered while picturing a monstrosity of a dress with poufy sleeves, miles of ruffles, and corset ties that would take days to lace up.

They soon reached the dining room, and the servants hurried to seat them and fill their glasses.

"Roddy dear," Bellatrix purred. "I do hope _some_ of the Blacks will be making it tomorrow, were your men able to give them notice in time?"

"I doubt it. This has all been rather rushed."

Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice. She'd never had any before and found she rather liked the taste. That, coupled with the smells coming in through the kitchens, made Hermione quite anxious to commence the meal. She had only ever been on the serving side of such dinners, after all.

Lord Riddle entered the room, flanked by his ever-present friends. Hermione looked up shyly from behind her lashes. Daring to meet his gaze, Hermione was not surprised to find the same intensity as before. She mentally made to shake herself, attempting to adapt a calm and collected face of indifference. She had not endured all those hardships in life, simply to cower before high-born wizards from the past. She was facing an arranged marriage, yes, but seemed a lot easier to deal with than any other challenge she had faced—she was sure of it.

"Bellatrix, Hermione," he greeted amicably. "I trust your afternoon was restful."

"Quite, my Lord," Hermione responded demurely.

"Please, call me Tom."

Hermione nodded the shyness creeping back in. It was difficult to refer to him so informally; it went against all she'd been taught.

"Yours didn't seem very restful," Bellatrix commented. Hermione looked at her sharply, why did she have to goad him so? It was not polite to rub it in that Lord Riddle, _Tom_ , hadn't been preparing for the wedding at all up until now.

"Yes, well," Tom said a bit uncomfortable. "There are a lot of last minute preparations."

"Of course," Bellatrix agreed cordially. Hermione swallowed hard, hoping her mother would behave for just _one_ meal.

"Is there anything we could do to help?" Hermione offered.

Rodolphus looked appalled at being volunteered for anything, and Bellatrix seemed amused at Hermione's eagerness to help. Tom looked grateful for the offer.

"That isn't necessary," Tom said smoothly. "We have it covered. Besides, you should get your rest."

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied evenly.

The two Muggle servant girls brought out salads and soups for the group. Hermione was eager to dig in and had to remind herself to act like a lady; holding her silverware daintily in her hand and taking small bites.

"So," The younger Lestrange began. "When do you return to the Ministry, Rod?"

"I have been on holiday these last two weeks," Rodolphus answered. "But will return week after next."

"How will you travel there? Broom or apparition?" Tom asked.

"By carriage to the apparition point most likely. Traveling by broom is so tedious these days what with all the Muggle repellent laws," Rodolphus explained.

"I do not see why it is necessary to conceal ourselves so," Nott commented. "We are the superior race after all. Why not reveal ourselves to the world? And put the Muggles and Muggleborns in their rightful places, below our feet?" Hermione suddenly had a vision of the ruined and crumbling ministry building of her time. There was a fountain on the main floor, with wizards standing on Muggles— _their rightful place,_ she thought snidely.

"Patience Cas," Tom ordered. "Grindelwald already allows us to employ Muggles in servant positions, he allows us to use come out to some Muggles discreetly. The day will come when we no longer need to conceal ourselves; we only need to proceed carefully. Very soon there will no longer be any need for a Muggle king."

Nott nodded at this, "You're right, as always, Tom."

"What of the Muggleborns," Hermione asked innocently. "What does the Ministry plan on doing with them?"

"Well everyone knows Grindelwald's agenda for Mudbloods Mil-, I mean Hermione," Lestrange started somewhat baffled. Bellatrix shot her a swift look of warning.

"I am sorry, Uncle," Hermione said, smiling sweetly. "But I have led a very sheltered life, you see."

"All Muggleborns are to be eradicated. They are an abomination and a threat to the natural order of things," Tom stated brazenly.

Hermione tried not to flinch at his violent words. "I see," she mused. "And what if they are powerful, as powerful as, say, a Pureblood witch or wizard? Does that play any part in the equation?"

Rodolphus spluttered his drink all over the table. Lestrange put his spoon down with a loud clank. The rest of the group merely stared at her, but none as piercing as Tom.

Hermione did not allow herself to be intimidated by the upper-class wizards. "I am sorry," she murmured sweetly. "I did not mean to offend. Truly, I'd just like to know what you all think. I've thought about it, and I find power to be quite a redeeming quality, don't you agree?"

"There is no such thing as a powerful Mudblood, Hermione," Nott said carefully.

 _How wrong you are Cassiel Nott_ , she thought.

"I see," Hermione said calmly, taking a drink of her pumpkin juice.

"Mildy loves to play the devil's advocate," Bellatrix hurried to explain. "She always wishes to spur a debate."

There were murmurs of polite understanding within the group. Tom quietly evaluated during the exchange. After an awkwardly quite moment, conversation began to resume at the table and Hermione busied herself with the decadent meal before her.

 _Well that was telling,_ she thought to herself, _apparently Pureblood wizards of the Victorian era's prejudice runs deep, there will be no dissuading them. If only they knew they dine with a Mudblood right now_! Hermione inwardly sniggered, taking seditious pleasure in her little secret.

Hermione nearly choked on her food when she felt an unfamiliar presence at the recesses of her mind. _Shit,_ she thought, _someone at this table is a Legillimens? And a damn good one too to be doing it non-verbally and wandless. Of all the rotten luck, if they are this good, I cannot simply block them, I will have to come up with some boring thoughts!_ She had just a few seconds longer before her barrier was going to be breached, the intrusion was so light, likely a lesser witch or wizard may not have even registered it but Hermione definitely felt it. She was familiar with Legillimency, and this probing presence felt even more familiar somehow.

Without further delay, she conjured her boring thoughts. _My this chicken is good-it's almost better than what Alyssa prepares back home…goodness I hope she is caring for the cats-Piper is supposed to have a litter soon, I wonder if mother can bring a few kittens to me after the wedding—will they be part Kneazle?...[Gods, they are still in my head, what is going on?!] The wedding, there will be so many people there, so many more than I am used to seeing, wouldn't it be lovely to make some friends…but they probably all already know each other, they went to school together after all, Merlin how I wish mum and dad would have permitted me to go…I do feel at such a disadvantage._

Finally, Hermione had an idea and spoke up, "Tom, did you, Cassiel, Rabastan, and Abraxas all go to school together?" Tom was furrowed his brows but quickly recovered on hearing her question. She felt the intruder leave her head, and she could finally breathe again. But then she started panicking all over again. _So Tom is the Legillimens._ She almost gasped. _Oh that is simply wonderful, I will be married to a Legillimens. Merlin but I will always have to have my guard up around him!_

 **000**

Tom was slightly befuddled. He expected to find a glimmer of information in the mind of the mysterious little witch before him, but he found nothing of worth after a light sweep of Legillimency. How could that be, if she was so prone to spouting out her thouughts? Unable to do a more thorough search without drawing her attention, he could only listen in on her current thoughts—ramblings that were surprisingly boring, rather innocent, and told him nothing.

What she said about Muggleborns; it was borderline treasonous! The kitten was showing her claws more and more, wasn't she? That little insolent mouth could get her into trouble. He'd have to teach her how to behave himself it would seem. Clearly, the Lestrange's gave their daughter too much free reign, but Tom consoled himself, if there was one thing he excelled at—it was breaking people.

Absently he realized the girl had asked him a question.

"Yes," Tom made to shake himself out of his internal ramblings. "That is to say, I was in the same year as Cas and Abraxas, Rabastan was a year below us."

"It must have been lovely, going to Hogwarts, I mean," she said dreamily, and Tom was very nearly caught up by the husky sound of her voice. "I mean, to learn magic with other students, living in the castle, it must have been quite an experience."

"Dreadfully dull, actually," Cas commented in between mouthfuls of food.

"Yes, and Headmaster Dumbledore was a cad," Bellatrix said.

"A Mudblood sympathizer is what he was," Abraxas added. "I hear they're replacing him."

"It's about time," Rodolphus said. "Do you remember when we attended Hogwarts twenty years ago? It was back when Muggleborns and Half-bloods were commonly accepted at school? Of course they had to sit in separate carriages, and at the back of the class rooms, and had their own table in the Great Hall, but still…Imagine being forced to dine and learn with them? Now Half-bloods have to get special waivers to attend school of course, but still, it was rather distracting."

Bellatrix had stopped eating and was looking hesitantly up at Tom, as did his friends. No one dared insult Tom in his own house, but it would seem Rodolphus was unaware of Tom's Half-blood status. Tom had gotten a waiver to attend school, of course. Being a descendent of Salazar Slytherin himself, it had been easy to procure from Grindelwald. But the subject was still rather sensative. He might have even said something, if it had not been for Hermione grabbing his attention once more. She was positively staring daggers at her father, and Tom was tempted to use Legillimency again, to see what had upset her.

"Yes I had heard Headmaster Dumbledore was going to be forced into _early retirement_ ," commented Cas. "Do you know who will be replacing him, Tom?"

"I think it was Armando something or other, I'm really not sure. I don't keep tabs on Hogwarts, you see."

"Dippet," Rodolphus provided attacking his food once more.

"Still, I think you are all rather lucky," Hermione declared. "To have the luxury to go to school and learn magic is quite exciting. I do hope that when you all," she waved her hand atTom, Abraxas, Cas, and Rabastan. "Enter into seats of power you remember how important it is to assure young witches and wizards can continue to get a magical education. The knowledge must never be lost."

To Tom's surprise, Cas did not have any snarky remark for that.

"I very much agree with you, Hermione," Tom said. This earned him a smile from the odd girl with her odd notions.

Finally, the servants cleared the dinner plates and began placing the dessert plates in their place.

"I will take coffee," Tom ordered.

"Oh and I as well please," Hermione said raising her hand. This earned her another questioning glance from Tom.

"I get sleepy after dinner," she explained.

Abraxas cleared his throat. "Well we have heard back from many families in town, the Princes, the Blacks, the Rosiers, the Averies, the Greengrasses, the Bulstrodes, the Browns, the Parkinsons, the Macmillans, the Peverells, and the Carrows will all be in attendance tomorrow."

"How about Grindelwald," Tom asked. "Will he be making the party?"

"He hasn't said, Tom, but it seems unlikely," Abraxas replied.

"You would think he would come," Hermione said delicately, cutting into her cake. "It was his desire to arrange this union, after all."

Tom had to smile, even though this retort earned a few more angry looks. She seemed unconcerned by the reactions. This was not the first time she naturally sided with him and that surprised him.

"Well, I, for one, am glad you are not inviting the Weasleys," Cas said. "Their presence would bring the caliber of guests down more than a few notches."

"The Weasleys?" Hermione questioned thoughtfully.

"They are our neighbors," Tom explained. "They live in between our lands. We do not associate with them very often."

"Why aren't we inviting them, though?" Hermione said, a flicker of annoyance passing through her eyes. "If the Burrow is located between Riddle and Malfoy lands, it seems silly to ignore them so."

"Well yes but-," Abraxas started before Hermione cut him off.

"And surely they are Purebloods?"

"Well, barely, only they are as poor as those Muggle villagers that live across the river. And they are rumored to be Potter-sympathizers," Cas tried to explain further.

"Oh I see."

And Tom could not help but appreciate the malice that passed through her pretty features. "And if one is poor, then that takes away their blood status? Besides, sounds like a case of silly rumors to me."

"Well no and yes but-," Hermione cut Abraxas off once more.

"Then I want them at the wedding," Hermione decided.

Silence ensued as everyone turned to look at a sharp eyed Tom.

"Of course sweetheart," There was a heavy pause before Tom continued, his voice taking on a huskier tone. "Send a courier over to the Burrow at once Abraxas; they will need some notice after all. My intended demands it, so it would seem." He was quite happy to see a blush climbing up her face.

"They will need more than a little notice to get their rags together and wear something suitable to the wedding," Cas grumbled.

"Well they do not need to _go_ ," Bellatrix jumped in, ready once more to defend her daughter. "But they will get the invitation at least."

"At least," Hermione agreed. "It would be rude to isolate our neighbors like that."

All was quiet after that until conversation hesitantly resumed once more. Tom kept an ever-watchful eye on his soon-to-be wife throughout the rest of the evening.

 **000**

Harry Potter apparated just outside the Burrow. When he entered the Weasley residence, Ginny ran up to greet him, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"Ginerva Weasley," Molly reprimanded. "Please try to act like a lady?"

"Oh mother," Ginny said. "Harry puts himself in danger every day, I never know when I will see him again, just leave me be!"

Harry looked sheepishly back at an affronted Molly.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley, I brought you something from Albania."

He walked up to the Weasley matriarch and handed her a tin. She opened it carefully.

"Albanian toffee! Oh, Harry. You shouldn't have." She hurried to give him a hug.

"It isn't just any Albanian toffee," Harry said. "It is charmed to be never-ending, it keeps refilling itself."

"Oh what a clever idea!"

"See mother," Ginny smirked proudly. "I told you he was brilliant."

"So you did dear," Molly said. "Hurry and get inside now, Riddle's men have been running about all over the lands today."

"Yes, let's hurry Ron is already rallying the troops," Ginny said, leading Harry into the Weasley residence. "Peter didn't come back with you?"

"No, he had to make a stop first," Harry explained. "Are Sirius and Ron here already? And what are Riddle's men up to anyway? Looking for me I suppose?"

Harry was fairly smug at the way he and his friends had altered a secret hide-out underneath the Burrow residence. It was large enough to hide a hundred people. Though their numbers were not that many yet, Harry had faith in the people he was recruiting. He had even snagged a couple more from Albania this past week, and with the ones Dumbledore was recruiting, their numbers would soon grow. Pretty soon, they would have an army of trained witches and wizards ready to vanquish Grindelwald and his minions once and for all, and overthrow the Ministry.

"No, it is nothing like that," Molly hurried them inside as she kept on talking. "They are preparing for a wedding."

"Riddle is to marry the mad Lestrange girl," Ginny added gleefully.

"Oh, what intrigue," Ron said startling the two witches half to death. "Hey mate, I have some beef with you for leaving me and Sirius behind while you take Peter on all the fun missions."

Harry did not get a chance to respond, though, as Molly continued, "Now, now, that is not important. I have news about the wedding."

"The wedding we were so unceremoniously _not invited to_?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, you see, that's just the thing," said Molly conspiratorially. "We were invited, just today. A Riddle courier delivered the _invitational_ himself!"

The other three looked at each other in shock.

"Here," Ron asked shrilly. "At the Burrow?"

"Oh yes, and we were invited personally, on the request of Lady Lestrange, the future Lady Riddle, herself!"

Molly looked excited. Ginny and Ron exchanged suspicious glances. Since, when did the Weasleys get invited to such events? Was this some kind of ploy? Harry was not sure, but he had an odd feeling about this.

 **000**


	4. Chapter 4: The Wedding

**A/N: Thanks so much for the feedback thus far! It is such a great motivator to know people are interested in this story. I am really excited to keep writing it, and though it is a work in progress, rest assured it is a priority and I will try to update as much as possible, this is actually one of my favorites.**

 ** _Mea sempiternum_** **means mine forever in Latin.**

 **A big thanks to** **LeanaM for BETAing this chapter-it is much improved C:  
**

 **Thank you to the reviewers: Pocahontaswalker, fspsarcastic, Lity, LadyPhoenix007, AutumnsSun, Edgeofmyseat, mega700201, dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE, peachx89, Fran, riddlesgurl86, NatTheOne, Che, and all the guests! Please drop me a line and let me know what you think of this chapter if you feel so inclined!**

 **Happy reading!**

 **000**

"McNair!"

Gellert Grindelwald summoned his most faithful advisor. Pollex McNair was not as quick to grovel at Gellert's feet as most of his followers and therefore someone Gellert bestowed favor on. He reminded Gellert of an older version of Tom Riddle; never one to display weakness, much like Gellert himself, and he appreciated this trait in his followers.

"My lord," McNair said in deference as he bowed. "How may I be of service?"

"You have done quite enough at the Ministry for me this week," Gellert said, absently stroking his chin. "You've earned a brief respite with your family, I think. What I'd like to know is if you've heard anything from Tom Riddle. Has he married the Lestrange girl yet?"

McNair lifted his head thoughtfully before answering, "I do make an effort to keep tabs on these things, my Lord," McNair began carefully. "And I can tell you the wedding will take place today."

"Really," Gellert asked amused. "So there will actually be a wedding, then? That doesn't strike me as Riddle's style. I thought he would much prefer to marry the girl behind closed doors, perhaps even by proxy, having one of his knights stand in for him ."

"Yes, well," McNair continued hesitantly. "I am not sure if the mad-Lestrange girl turned out to be what everyone expected."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, she has turned out to be quite the beauty and allegedly, quick witted. I heard it from Avery who ran into Nott at a pub while he and Malfoy were inviting guests to the hasty wedding."

"Hm." Gellert sat back, slightly annoyed. Tom Riddle reminded Gellert much of himself, apart from the Pureblood status of course, but Tom was ever the aristocrat and fit in well with the nobility. He was only ten years older than Riddle, and he remembered clearly the day when he received the request for him, a Half-blood, to attend Hogwarts—it was only shortly after Gellert came into power at the Ministry, and he was not much older than Tom was now. Albus Dumbledore, ever the one for plucking misfits from obscurity, submitted the request himself, stating that he saw much potential in the boy.

Normally, Gellert was not too keen on granting any requests from Dumbledore, but Tom Riddle, being the last known descendent of Salazar Slytherin was too great an exception to ignore. And to say Riddle had a potential for greatness was quite the understatement—Gellert kept tabs on the boy while he was in school and saw for himself that Riddle was special. How satisfying it had been to recruit him as one of his own supporters, right out of Dumbledore's clutches. Gellert recognized power, and knew instinctively that he would either have to recruit Riddle himself, or eliminate him.

Even though Riddle was proving to be a formidable ally and brilliant addition to his regime, Gellert felt like he needed to put obstacles in Riddle's path to keep the man from becoming too powerful. It started with slowing Riddle down in his assent to greatness. It was clear Riddle was the best candidate for many positions in the Ministry, but he denied Riddle the opportunity, instead gifting the duties to less qualified individuals. He made Riddle an Earl of course, and gifted him with the old Gaunt family mansion, but there was much more he could be doing and Gellert purposefully held him back. He still seemed to be gathering a following however, and though Gellert could hardly object to Tom procuring his school day friends into his services, it irritated him that Nott, Lestrange, and even Malfoy seemed slightly more loyal to Riddle than they did to Gellert.

He was happy that Riddle was being troubled with the Potter situation, it would give Tom and his followers something to occupy their minds and it meant they could spend less time planning to overthrow his regime, as Gellert feared may happen in the near future. It would be easy to enlist McNair to overthrowing the Potter boy and his ragtag group of followers, but he'd decided to let the Half-bloods take care of each other. He needn't soil his hands with it.

Yes, Gellert was doing his best to include Riddle yet keep him at arm's length, and this Lestrange marriage was another brilliant move had to throw a wrench in Riddle's plans until he had a solid reason to get rid of him. Riddle was well-liked and respected, it would make Gellert look weak if he simply eliminated him now. But to oppress him—to beat the ideas of greatness from the young man's mind and ensnare him forever in Gellert's service—this was what Gellert was good at, and it was his tactic in dealing with the young lord. Besides, he would outlive the wizard by far, Gellert was making great strides in pursuing the work of Nicolas Flammel, the noted alchemist, and had confidence he would one day soon ensure his own immortality. Riddle was simply an unimportant obstacle in the grand scheme of things.

The Lestrange marriage was supposed to be a deterrent for Riddle. Mildred Lestrange was not supposed to be likeable. From what he had heard about the girl, she was a basketcase kept prisoner in Lestrange Manor. Even Rodolphus himself had sorrowfully explained to Gellert that his daughter was rather mad and it would be best to refrain her from joining the other girls of her age at Hogwarts, which Gellert had of course granted to his trusted follower. He never actually said that Mildred was _ugly_ , but Gellert had assumed, perhaps wrongfully so, that she was, for who actually referred to their daughter as a beast?

Really, the union was set to kill two birds with one stone, for Rodolphus and his wife Bellatrix had proven to be trusted, loyal followers. Though Gellert could not say the same for the other Lestrange brother Rabastan—who seemed quite obsessed with Riddle and followers? Not to mention some of the other Blacks from Bellatrix's family that were very nearly blood-traitors, like that Sirius for example who had allegedly been sighted multiple times in the company of Potter himself. Yes, it had seemed like a good idea at the time—reward Rodolphus, oppress Tom—but now Gellert started having some doubts. Mildred Lestrange was not meant to be anything but an obstacle in Tom's path.

"Well, McNair," Gellert finally spoke up pushing his silent musings aside, "Perhaps if there is to be a wedding, we should make an appearance ourselves."

McNair blinked a couple of times before adopting a face of indifference.

"Of course my Lord," he said. "We could travel by carriage to the apparition point, then we will be there well before the festivities are set to commence."

"Very well," Gellert said. If he had come to too hasty a decision on the Lestrange girl, he needed to find out and examine her for himself, see if the rumors surrounding her held any merit. Gellert would make his own decision in regards to Mildred Lestrange, something he just realized he should have done in the first place. There would not be any further oversights on his part where Riddle was concerned.

 **000**

Surrounded by a score of people bustling about to ready Hermione for the occasion as well as an energetic Bellatrix shouting orders, Hermione attempted to be calm. She much preferred to be without the restricting corset but that would likely never happen again, so she silently let herself fall victim to the two maids who turned their complete attention to dressing her and brushing out her long locks.

"Must you really tighten the corset so," Hermione asked in unveiled annoyance. "I am already skin and bones."

"Skin, bones, and _muscle_ ," the maid called Martha said in horror. "Whatever would a lady have use for _that_?"

"Yes," agreed another maid. "There is no layer of fat to pad your soft womanly curves."

"I'll work on that," Hermione promised, amused. She would quite enjoy three square meals a day, she decided.

"You really should not have roamed the halls and stairs of the Manor so frequently dear," chided Bellatrix. "You have become far too shapely and… _defined_."

"Well _mother_ ," Hermione enunciated the last word in irritation. "Perhaps if daddy and you would have allowed me to attend school with my peers, we could have avoided these _abhorring_ results."

The maids exchanged looks with each other. Hermione stifled a laugh.

"But Mildy dear," Bellatrix began in a mockingly concerned tone. "We wouldn't have wanted you to fall victim to one of your fits right there in the class room, now would we?"

A few maids gasped at this declaration and exchanged sympathetic looks with her.

Hermione could not help but roll her eyes. "Oh I don't know mother, I hear Hogwarts has a fine healer, I'm sure I would have been in good hands."

Bellatrix decided to ignore Hermione's point. "Besides, daddy and I gave you quite the magical education, I daresay. You couldn't have learned from better tutors."

No matter how much Bellatrix irritated her, Hermione did enjoy their little exchanges. Not only were they useful in establishing a history between them, but she enjoyed the playful banter.

"You will be happy to know I have secured two bridesmaids for you," Bellatrix informed her.

"And who, pray tell, will my friends be?"

"Well we could not be too particular you see, but Millicent Bulstrode has graciously volunteered, I am good chums with her mum," Bellatrix explained in confidence. "But unfortunately for the second, the best I could do is Nymphadora Tonks, she is my niece you see, and still attends Hogwarts, she is in her Seventh Year."

"And," Hermione prompted. "Clearly you take issue with her for some reason—spill it already."

"Well," Bellatrix began in faux sadness. "My only sister, Andromeda, Merlin rest her soul, had to go and disgrace the family by marrying a Muggleborn, if you could imagine that."

"Oh the horror," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"Yes," Bellatrix agreed, ignoring her sarcasm. "So enter Nymphadora, an orphan now residing at the Black house once more. The Ministry keeps a careful eye on her, since she is a Half-blood, but she will do as a last minute bridesmaid, I believe."

Sighing, Hermione allowed her hair to be arranged with ribbons and strategically placed curls.

"I do not know much about the man I am to marry," Hermione mused. "What is he like?"

"Besides being the most powerful wizard in the world second only to Grindelwald and extremely wealthy, what is there to know?"

"Oh I do not know mother," Hermione bit back. "Is that _all_ that matters, then?"

"There is his godlike beauty," one of the maid's, Judith pointed out shyly. "Quite practiced in the art of seduction."

Hermione blushed at this, she could attest to the godlike beauty but the seduction part made her very worried.

"Very well-traveled, and his Manor is said to be the most luxurious in all the country, second only to the Malfoys," another maid added helpfully.

"Oh this is amazing," Hermione retorted sarcastically. "So a materialistic, egotistical, playboy all to call my own, then. Clearly—just my luck." _Not to mention your typical prejudiced Pureblood_ , she thought angrily.

The maids gasped at Hermione's brash words, while Bellatrix smirked, quitely amused at her daughter's discomfort.

"But milady," Martha spoke up, appalled. "It is a wonderful honor; many of the country's finest ladies have been pining for this match."

"Perhaps they should not have given _it_ up so easily then," Bellatrix snapped back seditiously. Martha flinched openly.

"Oh I don't know mother," Hermione said. "I hardly think we can attribute this, wonderful match, to my virtue now can we? As it is, I think we have Grindelwald to thank, and him alone, for these circumstances." Suddenly, she was struck by a thought.

"Millicent isn't another one of Riddle's conquests is she?" By the looks between the maids and the way in which Bellatrix fixed her eyes on the floral wall paper she abhorred so much, finding it suddenly interesting, Hermione had her answer.

"Oh lovely," Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air to the murmurs of disapproval from the maids. "That won't be awkward in the slightest. And tell me, is Tom prone to beating his women? I'd like to know what I am getting into, if you please."

"He'd likely put you under the Cruciatus before resorting to something so pathetically Muggle. Make him happy and you shall likely never find out."

Hermione stared open-mouthed at her in shock. "Trade one slavery for another," she muttered under her breath. But, truthfully, this was still loads better than her time had been. At least she had a wand.

Bellatrix merely tittered in response, striding up to the gleaming oak closet. The maids diligently started working again, falling into a comfortable silence. Hermione was very suddenly annoyed with all their pulling, tugging, and adorning. She broke away from them once more, folding her arms over her chest and staring longingly at the trees outside her window.

Turning to face her mother, Hermione asked, "What should I expect from tonight mother?"

Bellatrix glided back whimsically from the closet revealing a rather gorgeous white dress. Displaying it with a flourish, Hermione saw that it boasted an intricately pearl-beaded bodice, lace sleeves, and flowing silk at the waist. There was a lace veil in Bellatrix's other hand. Hermione had to catch her breath; she was not expecting Bellatrix's wedding dress to be so beautiful.

"Oh I don't know," Bellatrix began. "Rumor had it Riddle was so upset by the match he was going to send Cas in his stead to marry you to his sword." Hermione rolled her eyes at this. Bellatrix continued. "I suppose the curiosity got the better of him though, and he wanted to see you for himself, so he sent for you. The rest is history."

"Yes _but_ ," Hermione said with her heart fluttering. "What should I expect from _tonight_? You know…the wedding night."

"Well I do not think it Tom's style to conform to society's rituals when it comes to what is typically expected from a wedding night," Bellatrix said bluntly. "All that is required is that you eventually consummate your marriage and produce an heir. Purebloods do not follow the Muggle way, you know, and demand their rights in front of an audience that very night."

Hermione was blushing furiously at the thought but inwardly sighed in relief. Maybe she would be spared after all, she'd much rather take her time with the whole consummation thing. The maids seemed to be paying avid attention to this conversation while they had quietly began seeing to getting Hermione in the gown. "But, how was it for you and father?"

"Oh we had already known each other intimately long before the wedding night," Bellatrix said hotly, quite unperturbed by the sudden intake of breaths from the maids. "One could say Rodolphus _implanted_ the idea into my own father's head to propose the match to Lord Lestrange in the first place."

"Oh, how cunning of you two," Hermione exclaimed in frustration. It was easier to conceal her fear with irritation.

"Well, we Black women are known for our ambition," Bellatrix informed her. "It's why we all end up in Slytherin of course, and the Lestranges are no different, really."

"I wouldn't know," Hermione snapped. "I was deprived that opportunity. But if I had to guess I would suspect I would have been placed in Gryffindor."

Bellatrix gasped in horror and Hermione smiled ruefully. "Oh no you wouldn't," Bellatrix stated. "There has only been one Black to have been placed in Gryffindor and I prefer not to speak of him." Hermione sighed in exasperation while Bellatrix continued on undeterred. "You may think you would have been in that house but I can assure you Mildy, you are as ambitious and cunning as any Slytherin and I have no doubt you would have been placed in the proper house."

"Like I said," Hermione replied mildly. "I suppose I'll never know."

"Now, now," Bellatrix purred shooing away the maids to tie the final ribbons on Hermione's dress herself. "I know you are anxious and nervous dear, and therefore, speaking nonsense. But you have nothing to worry about. You will make a fine bride and your introduction to Pureblood society will go without a hitch, I assure you. There will not be very many people here this last minute anyway."

Hermione made a valiant effort to steel herself. Could she marry this man she had just met, one she knew nothing about aside from his reputation? She was overtaken by nerves, and worried she would not be able to play the part of a Pureblood lady to perfection in front of the patricians of this time. At least if she did make a mistake, she could fall back on her reputation of a madwoman. Though it had irritated her before, now it was comforting that Mildred Lestrange's madness was useful after all.

Gods help her, but she was truly and quite thoroughly fearful. She had to remind herself, she was Hermione Granger, and she had faced much worse than this in her time. She had faced Lord Voldemort himself and lived to tell the tale! Surely she could keep this act up and survive, and when she became comfortable in her newfound role and status, then she could attempt to discover the identity of Lord Voldemort and prevent her horrific future from ever seeing fruition.

Comforted by her newfound resolve, Hermione allowed Bellatrix to spin her to face the mirror. Hermione gasped as she caught a glimpse of herself. Merlin, but she had never seen herself in such a dressed up state before! She looked ever the blushing, young, virginal bride. The creamy white dress clung to her in all the right places, giving the appearance of soft womanly curves. The maids had performed a miracle, Hermione was sure. Her curled hair, adorned with ribbons and pinned to frame her face, made her features soften remarkably, even with the light touch of kohl around her eyes and powder on her cheeks. Her appearance temporarily threw her off balance and she had to swallow a lump as part of her wished her real mother could be here to see her on her wedding day, something she had never even fantasized about before.

"Oh Mildy," Bellatrix said giving her a hug around her shoulders and Hermione had to suppress a tear from falling. "You look wonderful dear and I promise you will stun. Cast your worries aside, today at least, and allow yourself to enjoy it. You only marry once you know."

Hermione swallowed hard, oddly comforted by Bellatrix's words. Her new mother could be quite helpful when she wanted to be.

"Alright," Hermione said attempting to gather her strength. "I am ready."

 **000**

"I want him to go mother," Ginny was whining now. "I am sure there is some kind of glamour we can cast on him."

Molly attempted to soothe her upset daughter. "Dear, it is far too dangerous. Harry could be recognized, and then what?"

"Your mom is right Ginny," Harry said, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "It is very dangerous. Many of Grindelwald's closest followers will be there."

"Right but," Ginny went on defiantly, "think of the opportunities; an up close look at your enemy without them even knowing you are there. And you are so good at gauging people, perhaps there are others there that could be swayed to our side—it's worth discovering."

"Gin has a point," Sirius drawled. "I am going despite my cousin Bella's aversion to me. Tonks will be there, and she needs the support."

"Now, see, that is dangerous too," Molly said, worrying her lip. "It is clear you are the black sheep of the family, Sirius. Were you invited specifically?"

"No, but the Blacks were, and with my dear old mother Walburga too sick to attend, I must go in her place."

"I don't know," worried Molly as she paced around the cluttered living room. "The event is in an hour, and we haven't even finished the gift yet, Ginny! And what if this whole invitation was just some nasty trick anyway?"

"That's exactly why Harry should come," Ginny said, triumphantly bringing the conversation full circle. "Should anything happen at the wedding, an extra wand could come in handy."

"Mother," said Fred. "You needn't worry, as George and I have already come up with a solution."

"That's right mum," George said chiming in. "Who needs to cast a glamour? All Harry needs do is drink this little potion and he'll adopt the look of a distant Weasley cousin."

"What is it?" Ginny asked skeptically.

"Modified polyjuice potion," Fred offered helpfully. "Our own batch."

Harry tentatively reached out for the vial Fred was holding out to him. "Well," Harry began. "It's as good a plan as any. Here goes nothing." Harry tipped back the vial and drank deeply.

 **000**

Tom explored the garden his servants had been busy transforming the whole morning and part of the night. The benches had been removed to make room for the arch wrapped in vines that stood at the end of rows upon rows of chairs. The hedge lining the chairs was adorned with lilies and silver little bows. In the adjoining east garden, the gazebo had been enchanted to expand and make room for many tables and chairs surrounding a dance floor and stage for musicians. The tables were decorated with white and silver as well, with flowers and floating candle arrangements in the center. There were also four-tiered trays holding various fruits, chocolates, lemon-bars, and delicacies to tide guests over until the meal was served.

Tom decided he did not like the silver wreaths lining the gazebo or the sparkling butterflies hovering around the vined edges but decided he could ignore it. Otherwise, he thought the decorations elegant and sophisticated, and surprisingly reminiscent of him. He was never one to splurge on such frivolties but for the festivities today he found he did not object to reaching into his coffers.

"Brilliant job Abraxas," Tom commented. "Whatever your shortcomings, you do have an eye for such things."

Abraxas preened, then bristled at the back-handed compliment Tom had given him, but then he relaxed—it was Tom's way after all.

"The guests are arriving," Cas informed them both. "I do worry that the Weasley table is not large enough. It is only seating ten right now, do you think I should enchant it to seat twenty? Free food is a good motivator for them, I would imagine. And you know they breed like rabbits."

"Oh lay off it, Cas," Tom said. "You know ten would be perfectly acceptable. Some of the Weasleys reside in Romania anyway, if I am not mistaken." Tom looked pensive as he pressed his fingers under his chin. "Have you made arrangements for all that will be in attendance? I do not wish for the wedding to be overcrowded."

"The wedding party and your dignified guests have their own table of course, then I have placed the Greengrasses and Bulstrodes together, the Parkinsons and Macmillans The Prevells and Carrows because they are a small group, the Princes, Blacks, Averies, Weasleys, and Browns each have their own table, but there is room for overflow should we have any unexpected guests," Abraxas answered helpfully.

"That's fine but switch the Parksinons with the Bulstrodes. The Greengrasses and Parkinsons are good friends," Tom said.

"Quite right," agreed Abraxas, motioning for his friend to make the necessary changes.

"Right then," said Tom. "It seems we have pulled off a miracle. Have the servants start seating the guests when they make it through the entrance. Let's get started, gentlemen; I am eager to get this day underway."

At that moment, Rabastan came into the gardens, escorting Lady Malfoy.

"Abraxas."

She greeted her son warmly, spreading her arms. Abraxas embraced his mother and greeted Rabastan.

"Good job on the decorations," Rabastan nodded to Abraxas in mock approval. "Seems you've found your calling."

"It's not like I did the job myself, for Slytherin's-sake," Abraxas sneered. "I merely oversaw the servants, something us Malfoy's are comfortable with."

Rabastan stiffened at the insinuation he wasn't used to instructing servants, but after an admonishing look from Tom, he staed quiet.

"What I would like to know is when we will be planning _your_ wedding Abraxas," Lady Malfoy commented evenly. "I am not getting any younger, you know. And you'd better not put _that_ together in a day. No offence Tom."

"None taken, milady," Tom said kindly. "Though I should remind you Grindelwald did not allow for much time in this specific instance."

"Yes, but you did have a week's notice. It is very like young men to procrastinate so."

"Indeed," Abraxas said lightly, grabbing hold of his mother by the elbow. "Let me show you to your seat, then."

"You know, that Olive Hornby would be a brilliant catch, I think…" Tom heard Lady Malfoy's voice trailing off as she was led away by Abraxas.

He looked up to see Leo leading the Browns and their two young sons to their seats. _So it begins_ , Tom thought, as always dreading these occasions, _time to mingle, then_. Tom made his way to greet the Rosiers, as there were many of them, before personally escorting them to their seats. Tom smirked inwardly as he mused how easy it was for him to excel at social events such as these despite his hatred of them, he was sure he could find some joy in the occasion today.

Suddenly, Tom heard a cacophony of noise and looked up to see the Weasleys had arrived. Arthur and Molly Weasley had brought their children Fred, George, Bill and his wife Fleur, and Ginevra as well and what looked like another Weasley Tom did not recognize. What surprised him, though, was that Sirius Black was with them, seemingly quite at ease with the men in the group. _Well it's not surprising, they were friends from school_ , Tom thought, remembering the First and Second Years from when he was Head Boy. Still, he was surprised at Sirius' had the impudence to attend despite the tension between him and his cousin Bellatrix.

Tom reluctantly made his way to greet the group, silently thankful that ten seats would indeed be enough.

"Ah, Arthur and Molly Weasley," he greeted, amicably taking the elder Weasley's hand. "So good of you to come, and on such short notice."

"Yes, well, thank you for the invitation," Arthur said, gripping Tom's hand firmly.

"We are ever so happy for you on this joyous occasion," Molly said smiling widely. He had to admire them, for all their shortcomings they were quite well-mannered, speaking to him so cordially despite the rocky history between the Weasleys, Malfoys, and himself. He could not say the same for the Weasley girl, Ginevra, who took that moment to snort in distaste. Molly gulped audibly. She seemed to have the good enough sense to not get on Tom's bad side, something she should teach her younger daughter.

"And I do not believe I've met you two," Tom said indicating to Bill's wife and the other Weasley. He knew Bill from school, and he was arguably the best of the lot, _him and Percy_ , who did not seem to be in attendance.

"This is my wife, Fleur," Bill said motioning to the beautiful French women beside him.

"How do you do," she said curtseying. Tom took her hand and placed a chaste kiss on it in greeting. Bill twitched slightly. Ah, so he still held a grudge against him from their old school days, very wise of him to do so, if that Ginevra girl huffed at him again he might just have to hex her. "Of course you know Fred and George," Bill said and Tom nodded to the twins. "And this," Bill continued. "Is our cousin Charles Weasley, he works with me in Care of Magical Creatures in Romania."

"How do you do," Tom dipped his head at Charles and he returned the gesture.

"And Ginevra Weasley," he said turning his full attention onto the insolent girl. "My but how you've blossomed from the gangly girl that used to climb my walls to gather berries."

Ginevra flushed at this and Tom noticed Charles eye twitch at the reference. _Hmm_ , Tom thought, _interesting_.

"Yes, well," Ginevra sputtered defensively, "there were quite a good many of them going to waste, I'd say."

"Very true," Tom agreed, silently enjoying the discomfort of the group. "Well, of course they are yours for the taking, if you'd like them."

Ginevra fixed him with a haughty look and Tom had to suppress a snicker.

"You are too kind, as always, Lord Riddle," Molly said.

"Come," Tom bid them. "Let me show you to your seats." Tom led them to an area closer to the back rows, as the other places were filling up, and left them there. He heard one of the twins mutter "Well, that wasn't so bad," and Tom could barely suppress his laugh.

The Weasleys were _harmless_.

Tom took up his position under the arch way to the right of the wizard Archimedes, who would be officiating the ceremony, and patiently awaited his bride. He felt confident in his newly pressed black dress robes and matching suit. The crowd, now all seated began to quiet in anticipation.

A late duo walked into the garden, led in by Bellatrix Lestrange herself. Tom stiffened as he recognized the tall figure of Gellert Grindelwald and Pollux McNair, their fine dress robes fluttering around them. Damn, but he had not anticipated that. Quickly Tom erected his Occlumency shields, just in case Grindelwald decided to skim his mind. So today would not simply be a walk in the park, then. And Gellert was seated opposite the row of the Weasleys! Tom cursed inwardly for indulging Hermione's unknown urge to invite them. Gellert openly sneered at Arthur Weasley whose position at the Ministry for Misuse of Muggle Artefacts he had recently terminated. _Oh this is good, very good,_ he thought darkly.

He did not have much time to ponder these new developments. At that moment, the music started and Abraxas led Millicent Bulstrode, dressed in a silver gown, down the aisle. Milly smirked at Tom and he had to suppress the twitching in his eye. Abraxas came to stand by Tom's side and Milly on the side opposite him. Following the duo was a cocky Cas holding the arm of a defiant looking Nymphadora Black, also dressed in a silver gown. Cas came to stand by Abraxas and Nymphadora by Milly. Tom grimaced to see that they were openly sneering at each other. It did not last though; soon the change in music indicated the bride was coming down the aisle. Hermione herself was arm in arm with her father Rodolphus. Both girls cast curious looks her way, as did everyone in the vicinity, Tom noticed absently.

Tom almost forgot to breathe when he first beheld the sight that was Hermione Lestrange, soon to be Hermione Riddle. He had thought her appearance lovely upon their first meeting, and then again at dinner, but now she had transcended from merely lovely to heavenly in the enchanted garden. She looked like she could be of Fae descent as she glided down the aisle paying no mind to the gawking on either side of her. The dress she wore clung to her in all the right places before flowing out in liquid silk to drag at her feet. He thought her features soft and feminine but Tom could still identify the eyes full of life and… _secrets_. Her mysterious eyes called to him and he marveled at the way she carried herself despite all the pressure she must feel. The only sign of her discomfort was the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses to her chest.

Rodolphus led Hermione under the archway opposite of Tom before taking up his seat in the front next to his own wife. Milly and Nymphadora openly stared at the girl as Hermione handed Milly her bouquet and tentatively placed her hands in Tom's. She resolutely looked up at him then and Tom registered fear, nervousness, and determination in her eyes. Tom longed to do Legillimency on her, but heresisted the compulsion to do so. He met her gaze with a carefully impassive look, revealing nothing of his own thoughts.

"Ladies and gentlemen, wizards and witches," began Archimedes. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls who here and now will pledge to spend the rest of their lives together…" Archimedes droned on and on, Tom was really only half-listening to him. He felt a sense of dread well up in him, and was starting to question some of the decisions he had made beforehand with Archimedes. When had a girl ever captivated his attention like this? Milly, Pansy, Olive, even Daphne had been mere unemotional dalliances but he found Hermione to be a rather fascinating creature and they had not even shared a kiss yet. Even so, she was on his mind for much of the past day hours and it really was very uncharacteristic to have a mere girl consume his thoughts like this.

Archimedes was prompting Tom to repeat after him and Tom did so reciting the vows carefully, enunciating each syllable. When it was Hermione's turn, she took a deep breath before softly repeating after the wizard, a light tremor in her voice. Her eyelashes fluttered as she lifted her eyes to speak directly to Tom. Tom found it spellbinding and was enthralled by Hermione's every action. He had to remind himself to remain expressionless and not let his emotions show; they were being scrutinized by a very observant audience after all.

When she was finished, Archimedes drew his wand placing it over their clasped hands. "By request," Archimedes started. "I will initiate the _mea sempiternum_."

The crowd gasped at this declaration and Hermione stiffened, her eyes widening in alarm. Tom could not help but smirk at this, breaking his blank façade. So—she hadn't been expecting it? Good, Tom was glad to finally take her by surprise. She clenched his hand tighter and Tom ran soothing circles over her wrist.

"The _mea sempiternum_ incantation is forever binding," Archimedes explained, though he needn't have bothered, he was sure most in attendance already knew. It was a spell commonly used in Pureblood marriages in the past but not so common now. Tom was vaguely uncomfortable now that Grindelwald was in attendance. He was probably wondering why Tom had resorted to something so romantic and archaic, but Tom pushed the negative thoughts aside.

"A sort of unbreakable vow between the witch and wizard, binding them to the promises they make to each other." It was painful to go against the vows, but possible. However, it would be impossible to cause harm to one another leading to fatality. There were other advantages to such a commitment, _much more pleasurable advantages,_ but Tom was content in the fact that Hermione would now be magically bound to him. That this should aid him in his attempts to Legillimens her was yet another perk.

Archimedes waved his wand over the couple's heads while he muttered the incantation and a shower of stars fell over their entwined figures. Hermione flinched as she felt the etchings of a magical tattoo swirl around her ring finger, matching Tom's own intricately designed magical tattoo. He did not so much as bat an eyelash at when it etched itself on him.

"You may now seal your commitment with a kiss," directed the presiding wizard.

Hermione looked ever the fragile prey caught by the predator. Tom deliberately lowered his mouth slowly upon hers, brushing his lips chastely over her own. He was mildly surprised by the jolt he felt at the contact and longed to wrap his hands around her waist and pull her closer. Experimentally, he pressed his lips firmer against her, moving his mouth seductively up against hers. Perhaps he should have used more discretion, perhaps he should have remembered where he was, but he forgot everything, taken by surprise once again. For that enigma that was now his wife, bound to him forever in this life, had chosen that moment to kiss him back.

 **000**


	5. Chapter 5: A Proper Pureblood Reception

**A/N: I have a long chapter for yoy guys! I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for the feedback last chapter. Please let me know what you think of this one, if you feel so inclined!**

 **A big thanks to LeanaM for Betaing this chapter C:**

 **000**

Hermione was still in a thoroughly distracted state after being blindsided by the binding ceremony. She was absently running her free fingers over the newly etched intricate marking on her ring finger and attempting to comprehend the ramifications of it all. Really, she would simply have to do an excessive amount of research. Her silent musings were interrupted when she heard Archimedes direct them to seal their vows with a kiss. If she thought herself unable to focus on anything but the bizarre ritual, she was brought forcefully back down to earth where Tom Riddle captured her with a piercing stare, rife with sensual promise. Was that really appropriate in a wedding ceremony? But it was all for her—no one else could see the look in his eyes. Hermione was dimly aware that he was toying with her. Growing up in the future Malfoy Manor had taught her to recognize that sort of thing. Tom had not shown this side to her yet, and oh, she was sure there were layers upon layers to unwrap when it came to him—just like there were with her.

Right now she had more pressing problems. Tom was dipping his head low with every intention to make good on Archimedes command _. Get a grip on yourself_. T _his is nothing more than a ritualistic necessity, stay unemotional and keep your wits about you! He means to catch us off guard, but that will not happen!_ Hermione channeled her newfound resolve to every part of her body, packing her nerves with ice and willing them not to respond to this perplexing man. With this new determination she stayed completely still and proper allowing the man to kiss her as was expected of her.

Tom deliberately pressed his mouth over her own, and a jolt of unbidden desire welled up in Hermione at the contact, despite her preconceived objectives not to react. Still she fought the mysterious magnetic pull the two of them seemed to share, but she was curious to find that Tom seemed to be slightly hesitant and a bit more inquisitive as well. Hermione felt him press his lips more firmly to hers and move them in a decidedly seductive manner; it became far too difficult to focus on her resolve and with a daring streak, Hermione tentatively brushed her lips back up against his. This seemed to take Tom by surprise as she tilted her head to meet him and he deepened the kiss pressing her mouth harder against hers. Hermione wanted to wind her fingers through his hair and pull him closer still, she wanted to take a step forward until their bodies were flush against each other, she wanted to do all these things but a noise from beside her reminded her where she was and just who she was with. She hastily broke apart from Tom, effectively ending the kiss, and inwardly marveled at the madness that had just overtaken her in mere seconds.

As the kiss ended she scrutinized Tom's features, still haughty and assured as ever, and she fixed him with an accusatory glare. He actually smirked back at her, enraging Hermione further.

Archimedes cleared his throat and she forced herself to look back calmly at the wizard with no trace of guilt for what had just transpired.

"You may now tie the ribbon of unity," Archimedes told them. Tom reached for Hermione's wrist and she allowed him to tie a silver silk ribbon in a bow around it.

 _Merlin but this wedding is so packed full or rituals_ , she thought numbly, _and in front of so many witnesses no less_! Hermione did not have to worry further, however, as Archimedes pronounced them man and wife, wizard and witch, and introduced them as Tom Marvolo Riddle and Mildred Hermione Riddle for the first time ever to an applauding audience.

 _Finally_ , she breathed inwardly.

Hermione allowed Tom to lead her to the gazebo and noticed absently how beautifully the garden was decorated. It did not escape her notice, when she entered the tented area, that the tables had tiers of treats, including lemon bars, and lilies adorning the vines hanging from the ceiling. Hermione felt a slight fluttering in the pit of her stomach, all the care that had seemed to go in to theceremony and reception made her feel a little uncomfortable. She instructed herself to not think too much of it. This was probably to be expected from a typical wedding. Yet she could not help but compare it to what Bellatrix had told her earlier, that Tom was initially so upset by the marriage decree that he had threatened to send his sword in his stead. _This could have gone very differently._ _Why,_ _I would almost call this turn of events lovely._

Tom pulled out a seat for her and Hermione sat gingerly on the chair simultaneously smoothing out her gown and attempting to calm her frenzied nerves. She could barely meet Tom's eyes as he sat next to her. That would never do, she was Hermione bloody Granger, survivor and adaptor extraordinaire and she would not allow herself to be intimidated. Defiantly, she raised her chin, ready to meet the gaze of anyone who dared look her way.

People started trickling into the enchanted gazebo. Bellatrix and Rodolphus took a seat to her right and Malfoy, his mother, Nott and his mother, and Lestrange made to sit on Tom's left. There were two extra seats at their table as well, and with dread, Hermione realized who would be taking up those spots.

"A right good ceremony, Mildy," Bellatrix praised her reaching up to pluck a scone from the tier. "You and Tom make a fine couple you know, just as I am sure my grandchildren will be handsome as well."

Hermione almost choked on the champagne she was drinking and attempted to push back the flush threatening to creep up her neck. Tom looked as much at ease as ever even placing an arm haphazardly around her chair.

"Yes, a very good ceremony," Cassiel agreed. "I especially enjoyed the ending." Now Hermione failed to keep from blushing.

As if Tom could sense her unease, he moved the hand that was around her chair to grab hers under the table. Hermione nearly jumped out of her seat at the unexpected contact and met his challenging dark eyes head on.

 _You're a survivor, you can adapt,_ she chanted, forcing herself to relax under his touch.

No sooner had she adopted some degree of calmness, when she sensed the foreboding presence of a wizard she did not wish to meet.

She noticed the probing of her mind before anything else, and instantly worked to throw up her Occlumency shields. Under such a heavy attack, Hermione could not even pretend she did not notice the legilmency. It was useless to throw up boring thoughts in her mind; instead she opted for another counter-attack. _Well that's one way to break the ice, isn't it?_ She voiced in her mind. _Does the wizard who so overtly sees fit to probe my mind uninvited wish to make proper introductions?_

She heard a chuckle behind her and turned in her seat to meet Gellert Grindelwald. She felt Tom grow tense in the seat next to her.

"Mildred Riddle," Grindelwald greeted her. "I do not believe we have ever been properly introduced, though I wonder how that can be possible."

"Minister Grindelwald," Hermione returned the greeting, making to stand and curtsy demurely, as everyone at the table stood as well. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, and you may call me Hermione." _You prejudiced, egotistical, bastard the reason for all my hurt and suffering as well as many others_ , she shouted in her head. _Oh very good, Hermione, shout in your head to the Legilmens, why don't you?_

"Hermione," Grindelwald echoed. "Please be seated, this is your day after all." He took the seat across from her and another wizard sat beside him.

"Minister," Tom said. "We are honored to have you here at the wedding you so graciously matched."

"Yes, well, how could I not attend? It was my idea after all, to see this match take place. Only the best for the Riddle-Lestrange family," he said, nodding to Rodolphus who tipped his champaigne at him in return.

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes. So he was taking credit for making a "good match" for his loyal followers? It was quite obvious Grindelwald had intended this to be a reward for the Lestrange family and a punishment for Tom who Hermione now saw could be considered a rival to Grindelwald. She had been there long enough to realize that, and she was sure Tom knew it too.

Perhaps her presence in this time had already changed something important. Tom seemed like a threatening and foreboding wizard that could one day challenge even Grindelwald himself. Maybe he had not been allowed the chance in the original history? Perhaps her marriage to him could change all that? Maybe she could build up her husband, possibly help him to renounce his prejudiced ways. It was clear the Minister had meant to force Tom into a union that could have been detrimental to his future ambitions. It was obvious to Hermione, his peers viewed him as a force to be reckoned with. She knew him to be unsympathetic to Muggles and Muggleborns but perhaps she could influence him to think otherwise? What an asset Tom could be against Lord Grindelwald and even Lord Voldemort.

" I am very appreciative for the union you have saw fit to grant me," Tom said respectfully.

"Of course," Grindelwald allowed. "What I cannot fathom, however, is why ever you kept your dear Mildred, I mean, Hermione, away from society, Rodolphus?" Then turning to her, "You seem a lovely, even _competent_ witch." Hermione noticed Riddle's eye twitch, he probably had guessed that Grindelwald had attempted Legilimency on her.

"Prone to fits that one is," Rodolphus explained. "We determined an home-education to be the best course for her." Hermione wanted to grimace at being referred to, as some half-crazed nut case.

"She has made a lot of progress," Bellatrix said, taking another lemon bar for herself. "I daresay, she is getting over it."

"Oh I don't know mother," Hermione said in mock innocence. "I am feeling quite fitful at the moment, I think."

Tom froze beside her; the alarm at the table was palpable. Lady Malfoy shot her a disapproving look. Hermione broke into a laugh causing even more discomfort at the table, it was quite comical, really. Grindelwald just stared at her, his face inscrutable, evaluating every detail.

Bellatrix joined her daughter with a bout of insane laughter and everyone at the table began to relax joining hesitantly in on the laughter as they realized Hermione was merely toying with them all. Rodolphus gave her an annoyed look and drank deeply from his glass, while Lady Malfoy still looked down her nose at them in disapproval.

"My Mildy," Bellatrix said between mad chuckles. "Always the jester, that one."

"Yes, I can see she is your daughter through and through," observed Grindelwald looking from one sniggering witch to the other.

"I think a home-schooled education is quite better than being taught by the blood-traitors at Hogwarts," Lady Malfoy stated bluntly.

"I quite agree," Rodolphus said nodding to Lady Malfoy. "Hogwarts is in need of much improvement."

"Not for long," Grindelwald informed them. "McNair, when does Armando start?"

"Armando Dippet will take over the position of Headmaster at the start of the school year," McNair said in a monotone voice.

"It's about time," Nott said, slamming his goblet down with unnecessary force. "The caliber of the school was brought down immensely by all the blood impurity, blood traitors, and Mudbloods."

Hermione was positively fuming; and debated internally whether or not she should say something. The trouble was, once she started a discussion, she knew she's be hard-pressed to stop herself. She quietly evaluated the situation, daughter of loyal Pureblood family, married to a notable and powerful Pureblood man, if she were to open her mouth and give such a controversial opinion, what would happen? Would she be executed? She thought not, this was a wedding, and things were not yet as bad as they would become, one could still speak their mind. Killing someone outright for their beliefs would surely still be frowned upon. It would be a blow to the Grindelwald regime, so really it was a win-win for her. If he should lose his temper and dispose of her, it would simply be detrimental to him, and if not, perhaps she could at least plant the idea in the other's minds as well?

She decided to play devil's advocate and see what happened. "Were there any Muggleborn professors at Hogwarts?"

"No," Bellatrix answered. "Not for ages, anyway."

"We did have a Half-blood Were-wolf as a professor," Rodolphus said, laughing. "Didn't we Bells?"

"That's right, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Bellatrix said "Until the Ministry decided to remove him as a teacher, but that was after our time though."

"Dear Merlin," said Lady Malfoy aghast. "I remember that. I nearly took Abraxas out of school then. To think, employing an impure creature, a werewolf as a teacher."

"That is just the sort of thing I was talking about," said Nott in between mouthfuls of food. Lady Nott seemed irritated with her son's lack of manners. "Another questionable decision of Dumbledore's."

"Was he no good, then?" asked Hermione innocently. Tom tensed once more beside her. Grindelwald shot her an enquiring gaze and Hermione noted the horrified looks Lady Malfoy and Lady Nott shot her. "I mean, besides his blood status, he must have had _some_ knack for the job? My mother's dueling reputation precedes her, so perhaps she has the 'impure Were-wolf professor' to thank for that after all."

"Hermione," Bellatrix chided, any amusement absent from her voice.

Grindelwald looked like a spark had awoken within him. "Is it your belief, then, that werewolves should be allowed to teach wizards and witches? Half-blood ones at that," he queried.

Tom stiffened beside her, "I am sure my wife has no opinion on these matters-," But Grindelwald cut him off.

"I was asking the lady, Tom," Grindelwald said, in a warning tone.

Reluctantly, Tom's eyes focused on Hermione, as did everyone else's at the table. Hermione leaned forward confidently before enunciating every word carefully, "It is my belief that those with the best qualifications should teach today's youth, Minister— _despite_ their pedigree."

Ladies Malfoy and Nott gasped and Rodolphus head shook in disgust. Grindelwald looked like the cat that got the cream and the others stayed deathly quiet. Hermione sat back content.

"It seems our beliefs differ greatly," Grindelwald said carefully.

"Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs," Hermione replied, biting into a lemon bar and savoring the sour yet sweet taste. Bellatrix was right—she did favor them.

"Do your beliefs align with your new wife?" Grindelwald turned to Tom.

"Of course not," replied Tom smoothly. "Unsavories such as we speak hold no place in proper, wizarding society." Hermione recoiled at his harsh words.

"Hear, hear, Tom, and very well said," Rodolphus raised yet another glass to him. "And I apologize for my daughter and her fantastical ideas."

Enraged Hermione did not yield quite so quickly. "I am sorry if my ideas disturb you so," she began sweetly. "I just do not see the logic in inter-marrying between twenty or so Pureblood families. Over the course of the years won't the small group just become convoluted and everyone will be related somehow? Inbreeding causes madness after all," she chuckled lightly. "It is much healthier to introduce new and fresh bloodlines, I would think."

Her father slammed his glass down and Bellatrix gasped, outraged. Perhaps she had pushed the envelope too far.

"You are out of line, Mildred," Rodolphus said dangerously as Bellatrix sent her a furious gaze.

"I was merely expressing a thought," Hermione said mildly.

"By all means," said Grindelwald graciously. "I do not wish it said about me that opinions could not be expressed freely in my presence."

Nott shot her a look of pity—clearly he now believed the rumors of her daftness held some truth.

Tom's expression was dark yet indifferent just the same.

Though I must admit," Grindelwald continued. "It is an unexpected thing to behold from a lady."

"Well," Bella said. "She is my daughter after all."

"Yes," said Grindelwald. "I can see that's clear."

The conversation returned to more general topics, albeit awkwardly. Hermione inwardly chided herself for being so candid. Grindelwald looked quite smug for some unknown reason. If Tom's stiff posture to the left of her was any indication, he was certainly displeased with her. _Way to start the wedding off right_ , she thought. She hadn't really considered the effect her rash words would have on Tom; he was in danger now, and most likely regretting binding himself to her. _Oh well,_ she thought, _he deserves that and more, his political views are preposterous_. Hermione took to drinking deeply from her champaigne, neglecting the food in front of her. Reluctantly, she made an effort to tune back into the conversation.

"How does the campaign with the Were-wolf Confederation fare?" Lady Malfoy asked. This peaked Hermione's interest.

"They are less than agreeable to the Ministry's proposed terms," Grindelwald informed them. _To your terms rather_ , Hermione thought bitterly.

"The Ministry is being very reasonable," Rodolphus piped in. "All that is required is that the dogs submit their names to the Register, the same as we require of the Animagi."

"A right vicious crew those _animals_ are, just like werewolves," said Lady Nott snidely, leaning over to Rabastan who nodded in agreement. "It's a shame we have to share the wizarding world with the inferior lot of them."

There were murmurs of agreements among those at the table. Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Inferior, _inferior_ ," she repeated in undisguised aversion. "How could it possibly be considered inferior to attain that level of competence in Transfiguration?"

"So," Grindelwald began with a hint of amusement. "You have an opinion about that too." It was a statement not a question. She chanced a glance over at Tom who looked as unreadable as ever, though he was grasping the stem of his wine glass rather tightly. She realized the others were neglecting to chime in with the Minister. Grindelwald was feeling her out and she felt like she was being tested—a test she was happily assisting in failing.

"I wish I was an Animagus," she said recklessly. Bellatrix grabbed her head in frustration. "I would be a bird, no an eagle, and fly far above all the pomp and frivolity."

"You would be a butterfly," Tom snapped, setting his glass down with a clank. "Vulnerable and fragile, it would not take long for a predator to pluck you out of the sky."

Hermione gaped at Tom open mouthed, before clapping a hand over her mouth in a fit of giggles. A muscle twitched in Tom's eye as he looked away from her once again. "More like fast and quick," she shot back. "I would be a slip of a thing, able to escape at a moment's notice."

"And whyever would a lady need to make a quick escape, ," Lady Malfoy said in disapproval.

 _Azkaban,_ she thought, _a place I may see far sooner than I'd like to_. But out loud she said, "I could be abducted. You never know, it could happen."

"Pity on the man who tries to abduct you," said Nott before he could stop himself.

"Cassiel," Lady Nott chided.

"Sorry mother," he mumbled. "And I apologize, Hermione."

"No worries, Cas," Hermione said and received a few questionable looks at her odd words. "You are probably right anyhow."

Grindelwald looked like he had been watching a very entertaining play. It had been Hermione's goal to make him uncomfortable, even get a rise out of him, and yet it seemed she was having the opposite effect.

"Do you hear them?" McNair was saying in disgust. "The Weasley lot; I cannot comprehend how they received an invitation here."

"They received an invitation because I invited them," Tom said.

" _We_ invited," Hermione corrected. "And if their presence bothers you so, we can always rearrange the seating—and have you sit outside, _Lord McNair_."

Tom's face was stretched in impatience and thinly veiled irritation. Rabastan looked fearful, but Hermione thought he always did. Bellatrix and Rodolphus exchanged looks with each other before shrugging and attacking their appetizers energetically. Abraxas actually shook his head at her and the Ladies M&N, as she referred to Malfoy and Nott, would not even make eye contact with her any longer.

"You are a hot-head, aren't you?" Grindelwald asked to which Hermione bristled. "So we can add blood-traitor sympathizer to your list of rare and distasteful attributes."

"I thought you said you wanted your regime to be known as the one where people could speak their minds freely," Hermione said challengingly, quirking one delicately arched brow.

"Men," Rabastan explained in frustration. "Or wizards even."

"Witches _are_ allowed to vote in the Ministerial elections, surely our opinions count too."

"Indeed," replied Grindelwald amused. "Perhaps that rule should be revisited."

"Perhaps," Hermione agreed making to stand despite Tom's utter look of alarm. "Now if you will excuse me you reminded me I should go and make introductions to the Weasleys." It was time she met with the only family she remembered to be reputable people in this time.

Rodolphus and Bellatrix looked completely unaffected by their daughter's questionable actions. Everyone at the table was soon beginning to expect the unexpected from Hermione. Grindelwald gave her a charming wink.

Hermione turned on her heel to make her way to the Weasley table, yet she still heard the talk resume behind her.

"Mental, that one," Lady Nott noted.

"Now do you see why we kept her house bound," Rodolphus said to nobody in particular. Hermione snickered as she came up to the Weasley table. Yes, Hermione Granger had definitely come out to play today.

 **000**

"It was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it?" Ginny asked her family. "Why, it was even dreamy."

"Who has ever heard of doing a binding ceremony at a modern-day Pureblood wedding?" asked Fleur in her lilting French accent. "It's positively medieval."

"I think it's romantic," sighed Ginny.

"How could it have been romantic," asked a disgusted Harry. Ginny still found herself chuckling at his Polyjuiced appearance. "It was an arranged marriage; the two do not even know each other."

"And yet there is chemistry," said Ginny confidently. "I could tell without a doubt…at the end." Fleur, Ginny, and even Molly sniggered at that.

"Oi," Ron said. "That was a long snog for a wedding, I'd say."

"Couldn't have been more than ten seconds," Fleur said.

"You counted?" asked Bill aghast. But Fleur ignored him.

"It _was_ long for a wedding kiss," Fred agreed.

Sirius was looking back at the wedding party, Nymphadora Black or Tonks as she preferred to be called, sitting close beside him. "Can you believe the easy way she talks to Bellatrix?" Sirius queried. "I mean, it's as if they _like_ each other."

"Well they are family," George said. "I would imagine there is some kinship there, mate."

Ginny eyed her brothers suspiciously, George and Fred definitely looked up to something and she would have to ask them about it later.

"Yes but it is _Bellatrix_ , whoever _likes her_? Family or not," Sirius said insolently.

"It is different with them," Tonks said quietly. "They have an easy way about them. An…understanding." The look in her eyes was one of longing and Ginny could not help but see the poor girl seemed to be missing her own mum.

"Well they haven't been rude to us yet, have they," Molly asked rhetorically as she picked at her apple pudding. "Perhaps they _were_ simply being kind."

"But the Minister of Magic is here," Arthur said worriedly. "I would not have come if I knew Grindelwald would be here."

"I would not think they would have even invited you all with Grindelwald here," Harry observed. "Something is definitely off."

"It looks like you may have spoken too soon," said Sirius looking quickly back to his plate. "They send one of their own over now."

Ginny lifted her head to see Mildred herself making her way to their crowded table. There were a couple empty seats to Ginny's left and Mildred strode purposefully towards them. Everyone quieted in shock at her arrival. Why would she leave the table with the Minister at it?

"Hello everyone," Mildred greeted them with a brilliant smile. "I wanted to come and make introductions. I haven't met any of you yet, and we are to be neighbors after all. I'm "Hermione Lestr.. Riddle. Hermione Riddle."

"Oh, um, yes dear," Molly sputtered. "But the Minister is at _your_ table, darling."

"Oh, yeah," Hermione said comfortably waving her hand dismissively as she made to join them in the empty chair at their table. "I have met him, and frankly, I need a break. That table can be rather suffocating." Molly and Arthur looked horrified and deeply worried. Hermione, completely at ease, began to load a dessert plate up with various fruits. "You'll have to tell me all your names," she was saying. "I am horrible with remembering but you gotta start somewhere."

"Well dear," Molly was saying trying to recover from the unexpected arrival of their dignified guest and her odd speech. "I am Molly Weasley and this is ArthurWeasley."

"I am George and he is Fred," Fred was saying.

"No I am George he is Fred," George corrected admonishing Fred with a glare.

"Ah," Hermione nodded. "That will be tricky to remember!"

"I'm Bill and this is my wife Fleur," Bill introduced them both stiffly.

"How do you do," Fleur dipped her head demurely.

"Enchanting to meet you both," Hermione said smiling. "And you are French? How exciting, I have always wanted to visit, you see."

"Yes," Fleur replied. "I attended Beauxbatons."

"Lovely," Hermione said kindly and then turned her attentions to the renegade Blacks. "And you must be my cousin, Sirius," she surmised.

"Yes, that's me," he said rigidly.

"It is wonderful to finally meet you," Hermione said. "It was horrid for mother to not introduce us sooner."

"Yes, well, I am sure my _dear_ cousin Bella made her feelings for me quite clear."

"Perhaps, but I am one to draw my own opinion on things," Hermione explained. "And you must be Nymphadora. Thank you ever so much for being in the wedding on such short notice."

"It's Tonks," Sirius admonished and Tonks looked down shyly. "She goes by Tonks, after her father."

"Of course," Hermione agreed. "And Tonks is a lovely name, I think."

She looked over expectantly at Ginny's other brother. "I'm Ronald Weasley," Ron said.

"Pleasure," replied Hermione smiling warmly.

Harry was startled out of his quiet observations as Hermione got to him. "Um, Charles Weasley," he introduced.

"How do you do," Hermione said dipping her head.

Ginny's nerves were at an all-time frenzy as she noticed those at the wedding table casting curious looks their way. They could do without this attention.

"And I am Ginevra Weasley," Ginny spoke quickly. "My friends call me Ginny, but you can call me Ginevra for now. And I would like to point out to you your presence at this table is causing a bit of a stir. This is not your place, and you should be entertaining the Minister. Who, by the way, is sitting next to Pollux McNair, the man who terminated my father's position in Muggle Artefacts only a week ago. I cannot fathom why you would choose to come and sit with us just now, especially when you have all _the people-of-high-influence_ to attend to, so please, do not bring us unwanted attention—we don't want any trouble here and we would only taint your reputation."

Molly gasped as she clasped a hand over her mouth in horror. The rest of the table froze at Ginny's outburst.

Hermione blinked a few times before smiling and opening her mouth to respond. "Well," she started. "I cannot tell you how refreshing it is to converse with someone as candid as myself. Ginevra is a bit of a mouthful, how about Gin? McNair seems to be a right brute and my apologies for the loss of your father's position. Personally, I find Muggle ingenuity quite fascinating and think them rather ingenious. As for my reputation, well don't worry about that I did a right good job of tainting it on my own just now."

Ginny was shocked and could only stare open-mouthed at the girl. Hermione merely smirked in response. She did not peg the uppity Pureblood to be so frank with her unpopular beliefs. Begrudgingly, she had to admit, they seemed to be a lot alike—if it was not simply all an act.

"Now I see why they say you are mad," Ginny said before she could stop herself.

"Ginevra Weasley!" cried Molly.

"Oh I do not mind honesty, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said dismissively. "I would much rather be hurt by the truth than be comforted with a lie. Besides, men have used 'madness' as a way to manipulate and control women for years; I hope you can take that title with a grain of salt when it comes to me."

"Of course dear and please call me Molly. Ginevra can be a bit too forthcoming."

"How old are you?" Ginny asked curiously, Hermione struck her as way more intelligent than she initially thought.

"Seventeen," she answered. "How about you, Gin?"

"Nineteen," she replied haughtily though she did not feel much older, rather, uncomfortable at the amused twinkly present in Hermione's eye.

"Sirius," Bellatrix screeched as she pinched him painfully on the cheek. "How is my dear cousin?" She did not wait for an answer as she made her way to the seat next to Hermione, oblivious to how she was interrupting things.

"Apparently this table is the place to be," Harry whispered to Ginny. Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Mother," Hermione said for the first time displaying irritation. "Did it occur to you that I needed a break from the suffocating presence of everyone at _that_ table?"

"Yes dear but things do not always go our way as I have tried to tell you time and time again," Bellatrix said to Hermione before she turned her attention to the rest of the table. "Mildy can be quite headstrong and self-serving, unfortunately."

"Mother," Hermione said in thinly veiled annoyance. "That is hardly true and borderline slanderous."

"Oh, but it is true Mildy," Bellatrix argued mildly. "Arguing with the Minister like that…tsk, tsk, it was very bad form wasn't it?"

"He asked for my opinion, I simply gave it."

All eyes at the table were shooting back and forth between the bickering duo. Hermione had argued with the Minister? Harry was right; something was very off about this whole thing; no one spoke freely to the Minister.

"I was leaving anyway," said Hermione as she made to stand. "I was just reminded how proper etiquette requires me to not stray far from my own wedding party."

Bellatrix looked up smiling sweetly as she joined Hermione, "Well, I am glad some people have good manners." Molly preened under the compliment.

"Yes, there is hope for the world yet," Hermione said sarcastically then turned to the others at the table. "It was good meeting you all and I hope you will let me entertain you at Riddle Manor." Bellatrix let out an infuriated sigh.

"Yes, well, of course," Molly stuttered. "That is to say—it would be lovely."

Hermione nodded and made to retreat with her mum who was tugging her closely behind. Ginny was close enough to hear Bellatrix whisper in Hermione's ear, "What are you trying to do, get us killed?!"

"Well," said Harry. "That was interesting."

 _Interesting indeed_ , thought Ginny.

 **000**

Eating heartily from his venison and truffle pudding, Gellert found himself in fine spirits this evening. He had not liked the way the ceremony went, from the minute he saw the blushing bride to their uncommonly long kiss at the end, to the way _mea sempiternum_ was utilized! Gellert was distressed, and then he had gotten close to the girl, he wasted no time doing Legilimency on her but was too startled and distracted to complete the sweep as she called him out quite quickly in her head. Well that had been telling and he had learned what he wanted to about the girl—she certainly wasn't daft.

It was clear why Rodolphus had seen fit to keep her house ridden; the girl was prone to speaking whatever popped into that mysterious mind of hers. Gellert believed others would see that as a sign of madness, especially coming from a witch. But Gellert knew she was not mad, at least he was fairly certain about it. The things she said were witty, clever, held logic to it, and were well-thought out. They were unpopular, and completely opposite of what Gellert himself campaigned for, but they were not the ideas of a mad-woman.

But Gellert _was_ thrilled that the girl clearly made Tom so uncomfortable. He had not even tried to Legilimence Tom, since he was a strong Occlumens, but he could tell by his body language alone; the stiff way he held himself, the careful and precise moves he made as he was eating, the little that he did say, despite his ever-impassive face…Tom was on edge and Gellert took comfort in his misery.

Turning his attention back to his dinner companions, he attempted to tune back into the dinner talk. Oddly, it wasn't as interesting absent Hermione Riddle.

"I say, what a horrible idea to have witches join wizards on the school Quidditch teams," Lady Nott was saying.

"Quidditch is a horrible idea regardless and far too dangerous a sport for anyone to partake in," Lady Malfoy sneered.

"Now, now Lady Malfoy," Gellert chided good-naturedly. "Originating from the days of Stitchstock and Shuntbumps, Quidditch has a long and detailed history in the wizarding world."

"Yes mother," Abraxas cut in. "Wizards have been playing since 1050. Of course _witches_ could never keep up with us but it is a noble sport."

"And not for the faint of heart," added Gellert.

"Indeed," yielded Lady Malfoy. They all turned their attentions back to their meal when Bellatrix and Hermione joined them again.

"Ah Bella, you've brought the way-ward witch back then," Rodolphus said.

"Yes, I apologize for my absence," Hermione said as she primly made to sit and began serving herself. "I simply wanted to socialize with my guests before the meal was served."

"But what about the Rosiers, the Greengrasses, the Parkinsons…" Lady Nott trailed off before continuing. "There were many you could have chosen to meet with first. Priorities, you know, dear."

"Yes and I do mean to do so eventually," said Hermione evenly.

"There will be plenty of time for that after the meal," Tom said stiffly. Hermione looked over at him with a bit of guilt in her eyes. _Odd_ , Gellert thought as he considered slipping in her mind once more. But that would never do, the infuriating girl would call him out in front of the whole table to be sure.

"Of course Tom," came her tremulous voice.

Gellert had to admit he quite relished this turn of events; it was unexpected yet enjoyable. Tom Riddle was a powerful wizard with great potential, and though he hated to admit it, could grow to be a major threat to him. One thing was certain, Tom would have his hands full with Hermione and that meant less time figuring out ways to check Gellert's own power.

 **000**

Tom was in a foul mood. Who was this witch he had magically bound himself to? Tom cursed the fact that he had but a week to organize the mandated wedding, without any time to actually get to know his proposed partner in life. Hermione had thoroughly humiliated him at the dinner table and more importantly, endangered herself. He ignored the protective flare that seemed to well up in his chest, most likely a side effect from the _mea sempiternum._ The maddening girl had spit forth all sorts of atrocities and in front of powerful politicians no less, not to mention the Minister himself, who seemed to be perfectly content to allow Hermione to talk Tom and herself right into an early grave.

After she had returned from the Weasley table, Hermione finally started acting like a proper Pureblood lady; making polite table talk, eating daintily, and afterwards when all the tables and chairs had been vanished to make room for the dance floor, mingled and introduced herself to countless guests from proper wizarding society. Tom could almost imagine that the little slip ups had not transpired earlier, _almost_. Yet Hermione had made such a mess of the situation, sharing her thoughts like that, didn't she have any sense of self-preservation? Even if she really felt that way which Tom suspected she did, you do not simply inform a table full of prejudiced Purebloods. Well she wasn't cunning as a Slytherin that was for sure. More like, rash and foolhardy as a Gryffindor. Tom sneered in disgust at the thought.

Now he was walking side by side with her through Riddle Manor. The wedding guests had all departed late into the night aside from those staying at the Manor and that left Tom alone with Hermione for the first time. She stood silently next to him, putting up a strong front but Tom intuitively sensed she was a bundle of nerves.

Finally it seemed that the brash girl could not hold back any longer and she whirled on him. "I do not see why you are so upset with me," she declared hotly. "You must see I did you a favor tonight."

Tom was taken aback, a favor? How had she come to that blasted conclusion? "A favor, is that what you call it," Tom asked darkly. "Please pray tell, enlighten me how you have bestowed a favor upon me this night."

"Fine, Grindelwald-."

"The Minister," Tom corrected.

"The Minister," she amended, "was not at all pleased to see his match come to life. Clearly he was out to punish you for some reason. And he would have been disappointed had I not stepped in."

"And why would the Minister wish to punish me," Tom asked amused. "I have served him faithfully and remain a loyal servant."

"Perhaps," Hermione allowed. "But you are powerful and therefore could be a future threat to a paranoid wizard like that. It doesn't take the education of an Auror to come to that conclusion. Forcing you to marry a mad-woman was undoubtedly a move with the intention of handicapping you. At least now I have lived up to the rumors about myself, the others will probably take pity on you for that."

She was sharp, perhaps _too sharp_ , even his followers had not all seemed to grasp this concept. "I do not need anyone's pity and I would appreciate you keep your ill-advised comments to yourself."

"Oh please, Tom," she waved him off dismissively. "We are married now, there is no reason to play coy or keep things from each other. Your best interests lie with my own, especially with the _mea sempiternum_ you bound us with, without my consent might I add."

Tom wondered idly, if he would have simply Avada'd the woman at this point, were he not bound to her. Her infuriation knew no bounds. He could never threaten her person, but he was sure he could break the wards binding them for a few minutes, just long enough to cast a few strategic Crucio's on the insolent girl. Until then, there were other ways to make her uncomfortable.

Tom closed the distance between them and grabbed her waist firmly. Hermione caught her breath and he smirked dipping his head down to ghost his breath across her neck hotly as he whispered, "In the future, I would appreciate if you did not take matters into your hands ever again. It could end very…badly for you."

To his utter surprise, Hermione placed two hands on his chest and pushed him away from her hard. "Do you think," she sputtered, "that I would wish to do _that_ with you this night, after everything you've just said? You prejudiced, egotistical…playboy!"

Playboy? The girl certainly had an odd way of speaking. Tom was sure he didn't understand half her words, but by the way she sneered it out could guess it was nothing praise-worthy.

Still, he could not help but to laugh heartily at this declaration; the witch was the most vexatious he had ever met. "You don't have to worry about that," he promised her. "I have no intention of exercising my wedding rights on you this night. Rest assured, it will happen eventually, but you have greatly displeased me." He stepped away from her making a slight bow before departing for his quarters.

He heard Hermione huff behind him. "Well, you rest assured," she yelled after him, "I will make it my life's goal to displease you every night hereafter!"

Tom had to chuckle as he left his wife in her ire in the hallway. She was quite the temperamental thing, but she would soon learn—he would see to that.


	6. Chapter 6:Hermione Explores,Tom Connives

**000**

Everyone had stayed over after the late wedding the night prior, and slept in quite late, so needless to say the Burrow breakfast table was crowded in the morning. Harry squeezed in next to Ginny and scooped himself a bowl of porridge. Still groggy from sleep, Harry attempted to tune in to the table talk.

"You danced with Daphne, Sirius," Ginny accused lightly. "Are you finally stepping into the role of a proper Pureblood?"

"Yes," agreed Fred. "It's high time you do your family duty for the noble house of Black isn't it?"

"Lay off it," Sirius said cheerfully. "I had quite a bit of spirits didn't I? And that girl did look pitiful sitting at that table all alone. Just a harmless dance."

"I am surprised she danced with you," said Ginny, smirking at Sirius from behind her tea. "Won't that scar her perfect Pureblood reputation forever?" She lifted her chin challengingly until Sirius kicked her under the table. She just barely managed to suppress a surprised squeal.

Molly frowned at her daughter. "It must have been difficult for the Greengrasses. Its common knowledge they were hoping for a Riddle union with their daughter."

Arthur placed an affectionate hand on her arm. "Yes but clearly Grindelwald had _other_ ideas."

"I wonder why," mused Molly, patting his hand absently. "It's so odd for the Ministry to intervene on matrimonial matters anymore."

"But they do still do it," Tonks said quietly. "Especially when they determine you are unfit to make a sound choice yourself."

"Yes," agreed Bill putting a protective arm around Fleur. "They do still do that, don't they? Do you know Percy was saying now they are enacting a new law in the Ministry outlawing international marriage without express permission from the Ministry themselves."

Arthur scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I did hear that. I am surprised the people are not in an uproar over this and the restraints on traveling."

"Liberties are being stripped right out from under our noses," Harry spoke up for the first time, drawing the other's attention. "Yet people are content to go to their parties and society events, neglecting completely to speak up about it. It's very rare to find anyone to protest the Minister."

Everyone at the table nodded sullenly at this. Even Sirius seemed to be pensive all joking aside.

"Then it seems like the new Lady Riddle is a rare find indeed," said Fred conspiratorially.

"She _did_ say she found Muggle ingenuity fascinating," Arthur pointed out. "A girl after my own heart. But the poor thing is in a pit of vipers, she hadbetter learn to check that opinion."

"Yes," agreed Molly. "According to Bellatrix, Hermione _did_ have some slip ups at the table, didn't she?"

" _Some slip-ups_ ," George mimicked. "More like borderline treasonous."

"Oh it couldn't be that bad," Molly said swatting George playfully.

"Oh to have an ear at that table," Sirius mused.

"How about an _extendable_ one?" George grinned at the looks of incredulity mingled with curiosity that were thrown his way.

"You didn't," accused Bill. Fleur sat up attentively next to him.

"Is that what you got up to?" Ginny asked as if she'd just solved some puzzle that had been troubling her.

"Don't tell me you would risk something like that in front of the Minister," Arthur admonished.

"We placed an undetectable charm on them," Fred grinned proudly at them all.

"Still too risky," said Molly. "The Minister can detect _silly things like that_."

"But that's why it's so brilliant—on account of how silly it is."

"What did you find out?" Harry questioned.

"Harry!" Molly scolded but she was already turning to see George and Fred's response.

"Well," began George leaning forward in confidence. "She stuck up for werewolves; our favorite professor specifically. She pretty much told Grindelwald right to his face Lupin should teach if he was the best for the job."

Harry sat back surprised at that. "Go on."

"She said she doesn't see the logic in strict Pureblood intermarrying," informed Fred. "That with only so many Pureblood families it stands to reason you'd want to introduce fresh bloodlines to avoid madness and inbreeding."

"She said that to the Minister?" Molly confirmed. "To his face?"

"Oh yes," Fred nodded happily. "Quite to the mortification of Riddle, so it would seem. Apparently her parents were accustomed to her unpopular views. They were uncomfortable at first, then pretty much had a, _sod-it-all_ attitude."

"She even defended human transfiguration," George told them. "Saying she wished herself capable of the ability to become an Animagus herself. She argued with Grindelwald for a bit more as if they were having a friendly intellectual conversation. Cassiel was the only one to call her out."

"He was always quick at the mouth in school," Ginny mused. Harry looked over at her in annoyance. Noticing his glare, she asked, "What?"

"Don't tell me you still have a schoolgirl crush on Cassiel Nott?"

"Oh please, Harry," Ginny said waving him off. "Cas is horrid. Only it is refreshing to have someone speak their mind." Harry looked at her appalled.

"She even defended us when McNair was laying in," George continued as if never deterred. "Actually, so did Riddle. Went up a few notches in my book, the both of them." They all fell silent digesting George's words.

Bill was the first to break the silence. "Clearly, there are still some people out there who won't stay quiet."

"Yes," agreed Harry. "That's very obvious now. You have to be pretty brave to speak up to the Minister like that."

"Pretty brave or pretty mad," Ginny dead-panned.

"Even so," Harry continued, glancing Ginny's way, "you may want to try and make friends with her, and you'd better not scare her off again. She could be another one for our side."

"Hmph, with Riddle as her husband," Ginny raised an eyebrow doubtfully but Harry merely shrugged. "One thing is certain; the girl doesn't scare off easily so I don't think you need to worry about that."

 **000**

Hermione stayed in her bedroom, peering out of her window, until she saw Tom, Abraxas, and Cas leave by carriage, heading to the Apparition point. Tom glanced at her from below as if he could sense her watching him. Hermione did not duck when he met her eyes, that would only give him the satisfaction and make her seem cowardly, so she stood stoically and met his gaze as if it did not phase her. Tom smirked before getting into the carriage and being carted off.

Hurrying to get dressed, Hermione was not sure how much time she had to explore before the men returned. She had just stepped out of her dressing robe and thrown open the opulent doors of her bureau hoping to find something suitable to wear when she heard a pop behind her. Hermione whirled around eyeing her wand on the bedside table but completely ready to do some wandless magic if she needed to. The tension flooded out of her as she noticed what could only be a house elf in front of her. Having only read about them in books, it was odd to finally see one of the gangly, short creatures, with floppy ears.

"Hokey did not mean to alert the Mistress," the house elf said. "I is only coming to see the Mistress to getting ready."

"I see"

Hermione kneeled down to the creature's level. "And you are Hokey?"

"Yes that is I," Hokey said proudly. "Now, come! It has been a while since Hokey has had a Mistress to care for."

Hermione quirked her eyebrows. "But I haven't seen you before. It was the Muggle servants that helped last time."

"Yes that's because the Master had Hokey busy this past week," Hokey proclaimed, even prouder. "But Hokey is back and at your bidding young Mistress."

"Well, I do not think I should be requiring very much help," said Hermione. The elf looked desolate at her answer. "But I am sure we can find something to do. Why don't you call me Hermione, Mistress seems a bit much."

Hokey looked appalled. "But you is Hokey's new Mistress! Besides Master would not be pleased with such insolence and Hokey has never displeased Master." The elf was positively beaming at this last statement.

"Well, we wouldn't want _Master_ displeased, now would we," Hermione said the sarcasm going straight over the elf's head. "Alright Hokey I just need to find a dress to wear, something suitable for exploring the grounds."

"Hokey can take young Mistress on a tour if she likes?" The elf looked up with enormous, hopeful eyes.

"Ah, no Hokey that won't be necessary. I'd just like to unwind after last night."

Hokey looked disappointed but Hermione quickly cheered her up when she suggested Hokey could bring her breakfast before she left.

"There," Hokey said brandishing a fine gown of royal blue pleats and floral overlay. "This one would be suitable for young Mistress."

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at the gaudy dress with it's poofy sleeves and abundance of pleats. The weather was nice out, but surely she would be stifled in that. "Isn't there anything thinner?"

Regarding another dress with distaste, Hokey selected a thin burgundy dress with a cream floral overlay and lace dangling on the sleeves and collar.

"Well I suppose this will have to do," Hermione relented. She actually _did_ need Hokey's help with all the fastenings on the back of her dress and was glad the house elf had appeared when she did. Curious now, she asked the creature, "Did you serve other mistresses for Lord Riddle?"

"Not for the young Master, no," said Hokey as she worked her way up to the back of the dress. "Hokey served his mother's side of the family, the Noble House Gaunt."

Hermione's blood ran cold. _Gaunt, as in the relation of Salazar Slytherin himself?_ _Blood purity runs in his genes for Merlins-sake, and I happily cluck away my thoughts on the matter. Good-going Hermione—you've gone and married the most blood-pure conscient fellow you could find._

"Oh," Hermione said, her voice shaky. She allowed the elf to lead her down to the dining area.

"Yes," Hokey continued. "Hokey was worried her service would end, but then Master arrived, exceeded everyone's expectations he did. Top of his class at school."

"I bet," Hermione said with an amused smile. Hokey seemed so proud of Tom; that had to mean Tom didn't abuse her. She'd read that house elves were bound to service but the abused ones would only do the bare minimum required of them. _Good_ , Hermione thought, _Perhaps he won't abuse me!_

Sitting down at the table, Hermione was surprised at the speed with which Hokey fetched her crumpets and tea. Hokey left to presumably gather some more food but Hermione stopped her. "That's enough really," Hermione tried to convince her.

"Some citrus at least for the young miss," Hokey said scandalized. Hermione nodded if only to stop offending the poor elf.

"So where did Lord Riddle and the others go Hokey," Hermione asked. "And how long will they be gone?"

"Master does not tell Hokey his whereabouts."

Hermione hurried to finish her meal not knowing how much time she would have to look around before they came back.

"I am finished so thanks very much, Hokey. I am going to have a look around now."

"Mistress only need call Hokey when she be needing something," and with a pop Hokey was gone.

Hermione hurried to get up from the table, eager to start her explorations. She started with the adjoining had already been in this lovely room before, but she wanted to examine the wedding gifts the servants had placed there. Taking a minute to finger through some of them, she smiled when she saw the handmade doilies with an 'R' sewn into them from the Weasleys. The Greengrasses had given them a particularly ancient Elderflower wine. She took the bottle and placed it securely behind the parlor bar.

Moseying through first floor rooms, Hermione attempted to get to know her new home. She was promptly shooed out of the kitchens; ironically—it was the place she felt most comfortable in. She discovered a small spiral staircase leading down and wondered idly if Tom had dungeons under the manor. The thought made her shiver. She weighed out the pros and cons of entering the area below. Even from the mouth of the stair case, she could sense strong wards were in place preventing just anyone from breaching the area.

Hermione, however, was confident she could pass through them, had she not figured out how to get into Lord Malfoy's secret library hidden behind the bookcase in his office at the mere age of twelve? At least Lord Malfoy had possessed the ingenuity to conceal that antechamber. Indeed, even Draco had not known about its existance. She had spent hours in that library, after the masters had gone to bed of course, and learned all she could about magic. She even credited that endeavor for how she quickly and efficiently learned wandless magic.

Deciding to take the plunge, and far too curious to turn back now, Hermione descended into the darkness of the unlit staircase.

" _Lumos_ ," she muttered. She was inexplicably thrilled at her ability to produce a blue light at the tip of her wand and proceeded almost giddily to the doorway. She stopped abruptly at the thick wooden door below, she had to admire the meticulous and complex wards Tom had placed on the room, if anything else her husband was talented magically. Hermione paused for the challenge ahead; she would have fun unraveling these wards.

It did not take her long to make some headway, and before long she was pushing through the heavy door and stepping into the mysterious room. She was a little surprised he only protected his area with a few strategically placed wards. But really, he never really had need for the extra security, no one would dare walk into this personal rooms. She cast blue flames to light up the sconces on the wall and was shocked by what she saw.

Whatever she had been suspecting, it was not this neat and tidy Potions Lab. Taken over by her scholarly side, she went to the book case and ran her fingers over the many books lining the shelves. Then she went over to the opposite shelves where potion ingredients lined the walls. _Why, you could make anything with all these,_ she thought excitedly. Even more thrilling, Tom had a few cauldrons with potions bubbling in them at the very moment.

Peeking inside one cauldron, Hermione identified one such concoction as a Pepperup Potion. _Well I suppose I do not have to worry about catching the common cold here,_ she thought happily, _good Merlin the man is a bloody Potion's Master, this Polyjuice is near perfect._ She also noticed a glass cabinet that held many finished potions. They did not have names. _So confident he must be to know all these potions by heart_ , she thought numbly. She identified Sleeping Draught, Dreamless Sleep, Weakness Potion, Occulous Potion, many potions to help with ailments and wounds, but mostly there were potions that had to be poisons, some she did not recognize at all. She was most surprised to find a small vial of Felix Felicis. Her hand itched to touch its the smooth curves. She'd never known of anyone to successfully brew that potion before. Slowly, a sense of pride was welling up in her chest towards her new husband, but mixed with the pride was a sense of foreboding; what did a wizard need all those poisons for?

She tried to open the glass cabinet door but it was locked. " _Alomohora_ ," she muttered. Nothing happened. _Damn_ , she thought. She cast many spells at the blasted door but it did not yield, it seemed he had protected his potions well, too well even for her to get her hands on them.

Moving on, Hermione noticed a platform in the middle of the room with a telescope on it. Stepping tentatively towards it, she thought how odd it was to have a telescope in the basement. She took another hesitant step this time onto the platform itself and was startled to see it began to move steadily upwards. _Why it's a like a Muggle contraption_ , she thought in wonder, _sort of like an elevator_. Yet there was magic infused in the device as well, from this vantage point, she noticed the Runes etched on the sides, undoubtedly engraved to detect when a witch or wizard moved onto the device. _The man is a genius_ , she thought uncomfortably, realizing that he far outsmarted her in nearly every way she could imagine. _At_ _least I may be a better dueler_.

The contraption climbed three floors before stopping on an outdoor patio, the perfect vantage point to gaze at the stars. When she stepped off the platform, she noticed it slowly descended back into the potions chamber and the marble patio floor closed over the gap seamlessly _. So he uses Muggle ingenuity and magic_ , she mused _, good to know_. Turning around she saw opulent windowed doors that were covered by sheer drapes with something heavy and thick. She wanted to go through the doors to continue her discovery of the house when she noticed another spiral staircase leading to the grounds below. It hadn't been there before, and Hermione marveled once again at the brilliance behind Tom's design, he had built the house with the knowledge to move and mold itself into what you needed.

She couldn't help but admire the view from the balcony. She was facing the back of Riddle Manor where a sliver of woods encroached on the land. She knew that beyind the forested area was the Burrow and then after that was Malfoy lands caressed by a large lake. She thought it might be a good idea to pay the Weasleys a visit and thank them for their gift. As she dragged her eyes back over to their very back yard, she had to admire the beautiful natural pond shrouded by various plants and flowers. There was even a waterfall, half concealed by rocks; she suspected was magical as she could not deign to reason what could be feeding it, pouring into the pool below. There was even a sliver of a creek curling around to the front of the house which she knew from her carriage ride here with the Lestrange's that widened significantly before disappearing into the thick part of the forest. They had to cross a bridge to go over it. Hermione had the overwhelming urge to immerse herself in the deep blue water—it was quite stunning.

She descended the spiral stairs stopping to breath in the rich aromic air of flowers and the fresh outdoors, Hermione bounded down the last few steps until she reached the grounds below. Up close, the pond was even more beautiful. She noticed a carefully concealed vegetable garden on a trail veering away from the woods. She would explore that later, for now she wanted to venture into the forested area. The forest was thin here, and likely the best place to cross as it thickened dramatically towards the Northside.

Hermione had seen forests before—this one in particular. It had been desolate and devoid of life in her time with not a shade of green to speak of. Though not ever possessing the freedom to venture far, she had never noticed Riddle Manor before, not even ruins from a distance. Yet here, it was all willowy trees, bubbly creeks, rich earthy soil, and small animals hopping carefree this way and that. It was not simply animals that ran wild in the forest, but magical creatures as well. She noticed a few pixies and doxies playfully hovering above the rocks by the creek. She saw a trail of footprints that one may mistake for a horse but Hermione quickly recognized as that of a centaur. She laughed out loud at the discovery. _Why_ , _there are probably unicorns in this forest, and maybe even mermaids in the lake, they are not extinct yet after all_. Hermione felt like a child, so thrilled was she to be discovering new things. She was getting quite turned around in the forest, and thought she could likely waste many afternoons here.

She spotted a plant she had only before seen in books. _Dittany_ , she thought in surprise, _oh won't Tom be pleased if I bring this back to him for his potions chamber?_ The competent wizard had many healing potions but she had not seen Essence of Dittany. The plant was rare and she made to carefully clip a good amount of it and shove it into the pockets of her dress. Her beautiful floral dress was quickly becoming stained at the knees and hem from the forest ground and Hermione even had leaves in her hair. But she did not care, she was content to simply explore and soak in as much as she could. She likely would have abandoned the dress altogether to swim in the lake if it weren't so cold out today. Maybe another day when Tom let her have some Pepperup potion for the cold that would surely follow. She'd love to cast a bubble-head charm and go searching for mermaids.

Stomach growling, Hermione realized that hours must have gone by since she'd started exploring and she hadn't even finished the second floor or the grounds on the other side of the Manor, where she had been married only yesterday. She decided it was high time she made her way back to the Manor. Was not her mother supposed to meet her for tea this afternoon? She would simply have to thank the Weasley's some other time. Thoroughly turned around in the forest, she asked her wand to point her south, once more ridiculously pleased to find she could accomplish this simple spell as well. She must see if she could sneak in another tutoring lesson with her mother after tea-time.

Making her way easily through the forest, it wasn't long before she caught sight of the Manor once more. The stair case was not visible from the back, but when she paced in front of it a few times willing it into existence, and sure enough it appeared. Hermione flew up to the doorway and was surprised to find the glass doors leading into the house locked. Frowning, Hermione cast an _alohomora_ at it, but was disappointed to find the unlocking charm had no effect. She cast a few more spells, and was surprised to find it warded more than even the potions chamber had been.

In her anger, Hermione cast a strategic _diffindo_ at the door knob and the door exploded open. She hastily repaired the damage, and then noticed for the first time where she was. _Dear Merlin, this is his room_. The room was decorated in black, rich dark wood furniture, Gothic lighting, and a four-poster bed that screamed masculinity. It was tidy and perfect with not one of the obscene amount of pillows out of place. Above the arch of the bed was an opulent silk-quilted head board. There were thick dark rugs on the rich wood floors and Hermione could even smell Tom's musky, sandalwood scent here. She was suddenly struck by inexplicable need to vacate the room as quick as possible.

Hermione wanted to kick herself. Tom would surely notice when he came back that she had trifled with his wards, wouldn't he? What would she even say in her defense? _Oh I'm sorry I thought I would just do an extensive search of your private rooms,_ _you know, discover all your deepest, dark secrets! Ha, not bloody likely._ Hermione made to escape the way she came in when, to her absolute horror, she heard the telltale click of the door knob on the other side of the room. But no matter how overwhelming the urge to run, Hermione Riddle, nee Granger, was no bloody coward who would flee rather than face a charge. Resolutely, she turned to face the intruder, molding her body to the hardness of the wall behind her.

 **000**

"Daphne dear," called Millicent. "Will your father permit you to wear this to the Masquerade? It is rather scantily clad, isn't it?"

"It's my party, is it not?" Daphne snapped back as she snatched the Greek toga she had commissioned one of the Muggle servants to make for her. "I can't imagine my father would refuse me anything." _Besides, Tom needs to remember what he is missing out on_ , she thought hotly. She could not blame him for not sending for her these past few days, but really she was starting to get antsy. The damned Minister having thoroughly muddled her plans with his blasted arranged marriage, really, who even did that anymore? No matter, she would make right what was wrong.

Pansy nodded at this. "Why, remember when that Half-blood was placed in our Slytherin dorms? Daphne complained to that batty headmaster about it, and he wouldn't budge on his position, forcing us to share our living space with that filth!" Pansy sputtered the last few words.

"I remember," agreed Millicent. "Didn't your father get written notice from the Minister himself stating we would not be forced to share our quarters with the Woods girl?"

The Minister had been swift to comply, then _how did_ he come to be the ruin of her plans? "Exactly, Milly, Pansy," Daphne said. "In any case, daddy refuses me nothing, and it is a costume party after all, in celebration of Samhain. Proper etiquette dictates this is more than appropriate wear."

"But it shows your _midriff_ ," Millicent stammered scandalized. "Well part of it anyway."

"We are witches aren't we?" Daphne waved her hand dismissively, absently stroking the gauzy fabric. "We do not have to abide by _Muggle rules_. Their world is crumbling anyway, many of them know of us now despite Muggle repelling charms. No dear Milly, it's a costume party, and this is what the Greek sorceress Diana would have worn."

"What is your costume?" Pansy asked Millicent.

"I was planning to go as a unicorn, well, with a unicorn mask anyway, I was going to wear a dress of course," Millicent said, raising her chin with false confidence.

"That's so boring," Pansy noted. "This isn't a regular masquerade; the whole outfit needs to be in theme."

"What will you be, then?" questioned Millicent.

"I am going as Cleopatra, the Egyptian Queen, not the alchemist," replied Pansy. She flashed a grin at her friends and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, "My midriff will be showing too."

Daphne curled her lips in disdain. "How pathetically Muggle." She dumped her dress on a chair then went over to the remaining invitations. "Ziggy," she said, summoning the house elf who appeared with a pop. "Get these invitations sealed and ready to send via Owl Post."

"Muggle?" Pansy cried outraged. "It is a well-known fact Cleopatra was a witch, she could hardly be considered a Muggle."

"Perhaps," Daphne allowed. "It is a rather foggy period of history."

"So we are supposed to go as a historical figure then?" said Millicent panicky. "No one told me it was a historically themed party, who can I be then? I need to change my costume! And apparently show midriff."

"You can be a cave woman," suggested Pansy mockingly as she plopped on the overstuffed ottoman grabbing a glass of champagne. "Or a Viking, even."

"See, you and Daphne choose all the good ones, that's how it's always been, even since our school days," Millicent said accusingly.

"Oh come off it, Milly," said Daphne as she idly brushed her luscious brown locks. "Any character is fine really, a unicorn, a woodland nymph, a mermaid, there are plenty of things you can go as."

"But mermaids are horrid looking creatures," Millicent sneered in disgust.

"So do your rendition of one," suggested Daphne. "For Slytherin-sake, do you not have any creativity?"

"Lay off her, Daphne," Pansy said plucking some berries of the fruit tray the house elf had brought them and ignoring Daphne's obnoxiously loud huff. "She just wants to be like us. How about you go as Kalia the Arabian sorceress? That should be a fun outfit to make."

"Alright, I'll be Kalia, I like wearing blue anyway." Content, Millicent watched Daphne write the names of the guests in her delicate script with a flourish of her quill. "Daphne," she began. "Will you be inviting _her_."

"For Salazar's-sake Milly, her name doesn't have a curse to it, of course I'll be inviting _Mildred_ , I am inviting Tom after all."

Millicent fiddled with the lace of her sleeves nervously. "Yes, well, I just thought…ugh, I don't know."

" _You just thought that_ since I had not so subtly staked my claim on Tom for years and now the Minister ups and gives him to a mad girl that I would crawl up in a hole and die quietly somewhere?"

"Well, not exactly, but yes," Millicent said blushing.

"I am a Greengrass, we do not go quietly into the night," she said evenly.

"I wonder what she will be," Pansy mused. "And she did not seem all that _mad_ to me. Daphne."

"Maybe not Pans," Daphne agreed. "But I still think there is something off about her."

"The poor girl," Millicent said with a faraway look. "To be locked up her whole life in the Lestrange Manor, never having met girls her own age, I feel sorry for her."

"You would," Pansy sneered. "Though I can see how she would be slightly off, her mother is positively crazed."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is the scariest witch on the planet, I am certain of it," said Millicent. "Yet you danced with her cousin Sirius at the wedding."

"Yes," agreed Pansy. "She is not the witch to cross, that is for sure, and I cannot believe you danced with that blood-traitor Sirius."

Daphne swallowed hard before replying, "We all knew how crazy Bellatrix is, but it is her odd daughter that is the one to watch. Forget Sirius, it was nothing more than too much bubbly. Though you have to admit he does cut a fine figure in those robes. Still, if Mildred decides to come, we will just have to make her feel very welcome, won't we?"

The girls all snickered at this. Perhaps the party would be fun, full of gossip and intrigue, and a chance to get to know that odd girl, Mildred Lestrange who went by Hermione.

 **000**

"I cannot believe it is finally happening," said Cas excitedly. "We are coming out to the Muggles at last. And to all those who thought the Minister wouldn't do it." Cas was practically skipping all the way from the Apparition point to the carriage. "We shouldn't have to waste so much time and energy concealing ourselves from the Muggles the way we've been doing. Let them know of our existence, and fear us as they should."

Abraxas studied his nails with a pensive look. "Take it down a notch. There is much to do before we get to that point."

Tom stared out at the English country side the carriage was taking them by. Cas did not seem capable of sitting still. He laughed off Abraxas' reprove."Yes but the other wizarding leaders have recognized Minister Grindelwald as the supreme ruler of the wizarding world. His decisions will reign above all else."

"There are still the factions that do not recognize any form of leadership, those are the ones we need to secure to our side. We still have our work cut out for us," said Abraxas matter-of-factly.

Tom strode on, ever impassive yet inwardly seething. Who were his followers loyal to? Every time Gellert made progress it seemed to electrify his minions. Did they forget whom they served? It is Lord Voldemort they should be prostrating themselves before. Tom thought he had taught them many times in their school years just who the superior wizard was. Granted, he had not needed to do so since they had graduated Hogwarts and it seemed Cassiel's memory was slipping. Abraxas, at least, still seemed to remember.

"We can do that easily," said Cas brazenly. "And then we will be treated as the superior beings we are. Why I will enslave so many Muggles, I daresay I will not have to lift a finger for the rest of my life."

"You will become old and fat in no time at all," declared Abraxas.

"No," disagreed Cas. "I think I will stay trim and fit due to all the women I'll fuck. I'll have a different one every night I think."

"You'll take your slaves then?" Abraxas mocked..

"If they meet my standards," Cas said with a disdainful smirk.

"You don't sound like a Pureblood to me," Abraxas said. "What would Lady Nott say?"

"Sod off Abraxas," Cas said cheerfully. "I don't give a fuck about the old ways, we are to inherit a new world, and we will make up our own rules."

Finally brought to his boiling point, Tom whirled on Cas. " _Our rules_ Cas?" Tom asked in a dangerously low voice while he let his magic brush against Cas oppressively, with a menacing crackle. Cas flinched away even as he kneeled in deference. Abraxas kneeled down beside him, bowing his head.

"Pray tell, what are _our_ plans for the future? Perhaps someone should clue me in? You're so hung up over everything fucking Gellert does; it makes me question where your loyalties lie."

"My l-lord," he stuttered uncharacteristically serious. "You know my loyalties lie with you. I only thought this was your agenda as well. Forgive me."

"You thought, or rather you assumed." Tom said perilously. "I wonder Cas, how deep your loyalties lie."

"My lord," he said somewhat recovered but still in a kneeling position. "I wear your mark. Truly when have I not executed an order of yours swiftly and to completion?"

"That is true, but what if that order was against Grindelwald himself?" Tom asked deadly serious. "What if it was his death I ordered."

"I would comply unwaveringly, my lord," Cas responded immediately. "Though I may die trying."

Somewhat satisfied, Tom lifted his oppressive magic. "Of course you would. When the time comes, which is not now, mind you, it will be me and only me that steps up to Grindelwald. Just remember whom you serve."

"Yes my lord," Abraxas and Cas both mumbled as one.

"You may rise," Tom permitted. They both stood up and entered the horse-drawn carriage with Tom.

"Does this mean I won't be allowed a new Muggle slave every night?" Cas asked meekly. Abraxas looked at him like he'd grown three heads.

Tom lit a cigar and took a deep inhalation before deigning to answer him, "Where would you house them all? Surely you can make do with less than that. Be reasonable Cas."

Cas attempted to look as indifferent as Abraxas and Tom but it came out more insolent than anything else. Tom chuckled inwardly. Cassiel had always been the high-spirited one of Tom's followers, Rabastan being easy to break and Abraxas being quick to yield to one more powerful than him, but they were the one's he relied on most. Not trusted, no—trust was reserved solely for himself.

As the carriage ride commenced, Tom, had a moment to reflect on Hermione and their strange situation. Married, and still having not even spent the night with each other. It was not Tom's style, but then, he had never been married before. The courageous little bint actually had the nerve to stand up to him, and she had a horrible habit of speaking her mind. Which wouldn't be so bad in some instances, it would actually be rather useful, but in others quite detrimental.

Begrudgingly, Tom had to appreciate her uncanny ability to spot Grindelwald as the common foe he was to both of them now. She was most certainly right about that, but that she came to that solution, more quickly than even his followers had—it was alarming. He had never dealt with a girl like her before, one so resourceful and self-assured, it threw him off tremendously. He had to take the lead in their relationship and do so quickly.

Resolved in his plan to put Hermione in her place, Tom sat up in alarm when he sensed the breaching of his wards. _What intruder is this?_ He wondered.

"What's wrong?" asked Abraxas, ever aware of the slightest change in his behavior.

"Nothing I cannot handle," Tom said cuttingly. "You are dismissed for the evening unless I summon you."

Jumping out of the carriage, Abraxas and Cas made to get their brooms from the hanger in front of Riddle Manor before flying off in the sky towards Malfoy Manor.

Tom quickly Apparated outside the door of his personal chambers, something only he could do after all, and he promptly made to open the door, wand at the ready. He entered the room, ready to stun the invader, but was shocked to find a startled Hermione pressed up against a wall instead.

"Hermione," he said questioningly as he lowered his wand, coming down from the rush of adrenaline. "If you wished to see my rooms you need only have asked," he whispered suggestively.

Hermione seemed to recover at his provocative words. Furrowing her eyebrows she responded, "I was only lost, this house is a bloody maze. Surely I am permitted to get the lay of it, or am I supposed to be held captive in my bedroom?"

Tom chuckled as he made his way inside the doorway; he noticed the way Hermione inched further away from him. She was fearful of him. _Good_ , he thought, _wise_.

"That's why I sent you Hokey. She was to take you on a tour, you didn't let her then I presume."

"I prefer to explore things myself," she said quickly folding her arms over her chest. "But Hokey was very helpful this morning," she added softly.

"And did you enjoy gallivanting through the woods as well this morning, Hermione?"

Amused, he watched as she looked down at her dress seemingly appalled to find green and brown stains on the expensive material. Taking advantage of her distress, Tom strode up to her and had to stifle a laugh at the way she seemed to want to shrink away from him. Tom tentatively reached out towards her hair and watched as Hermione's pupils dilated ever so slightly. He plucked a brown leaf from her head and held it up for her assessment.

"Indeed," he said teasingly. "Have I married a witch or a woodland fairy?"

Hermione glared at him as she lifted her dress skirts and pulled away from his reach. "That's very rich," she said lightly. "To tease me so, and on our first day of marriage even. I only wanted to catch a view of the lake."

"Well you want to go by broom to see the lake," Tom said as if it was obvious. "It would be a dreadfully long walk. Honestly Hermione, are you a witch or aren't you? You can't do a simple _scorgify_ or _tergeo_ on your gown, or take a broom over to the lake. Really what can you do?"

Whirling on the unsuspecting Tom, she cast a stunning hex at him, Tom easily blocked it and he registered surprise on her face. "I'll show you just what I am capable of," Hermione threatened. And proceeded to throw more stunning hexes at him. Tom was appalled; he actually had to throw up a shield she was throwing them so quickly and forcefully, seemingly determined to hit him.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," he muttered lazily. Her wand flew quickly to his outstretched hand. "Tsk, tsk Hermione; one does not have a duel in their bloody bedroom. You will have the opportunity to challenge me at a proper dueling match eventually, and hopefully for your sake, you'll have more practice by then."

"You do go on," Hermione noted snidely. "Tell me, are you obsessed with the sound of your own voice?" Tom huffed at the suggestion. Hermione continued undeterred. "I simply do not know how to _ride_ a broom; you don't get much practice staying cooped up all day in a manor. And as for the _scorgify_ , well it simply hadn't occurred to me, that's all."

Tom advanced on her stealthily. "Yes," Tom crooned as he made to grab her chin and look intensely in her eyes. "It hadn't occurred to you. I wonder what you are so busy thinking about that even the most simple of ideas doesn't cross your mind. I'd wager your head is a rather interesting place."

Hermione looked frightened again, and on the defense, effectively backing up against the wall once more.

"Is it?" Tom asked huskily, caressing her face.

"Is it what?" she asked thickly.

"Your head," he explained bringing his body closer to hers. He could feel the heat radiating off her now, and the scent of freesia tickled his nose. "Is it interesting?"

"N-no," she mumbled. "It's positively boring in here. Really, it's nowhere you'd want to be."

Tom ignored her rambling and made to dip his head down to hers. "Oh I don't know Hermione," he said sensually. "I think I'd like to discover for myself."

Then he pressed his lips against hers. It was like the day before, except now he knew what to expect. The jolt was anticipated, but intoxicating as ever and invigorated his every nerve ending, it was like the thrill one got from successfully performing rare magic, a burst of pulsating energy that pulled Tom inexplicably closer to her. Hermione was still at first, but her defenses soon collapsed and she pressed her lips back up against his, helpless to resist the magnetic pull they had towards each other. Tom felt a burst of triumph as she yielded to him, and pressed his body flush up against hers, eliciting a soft moan from her mouth. Tom was about to deepen the kiss, when he heard a knock on the door. Hermione jumped back from him as if she'd been burned, effectively breaking the spell. Tom stared at her hungrily; she was softly panting and her pupils were still dilated.

"Lord Riddle," said Leo.

"What is it Leo," Tom asked his voice guttural.

"Mistress Lestrange awaits in the solarium my Lord."

"Very well," Tom replied coolly never taking his eyes off Hermione.

"M-my mother," Hermione stammered. "It's tea-time, that is time for tea, I must do tea with her, my mum that is, and tutoring, so I'll be going now. Good-bye."

She was rambling on as she hurried to walk pasts him as if he had the plague. Tom looked after her, his gaze dark and heated. Never before had he been so overcome with desire and due to an innocent kiss no less. Tom was angry; he would not be deprived of what he wanted for long, and with stark comprehension, he realized he wanted her.

 **000**

 **A/N: Well I hope you are enjoying these longer chapters (thats why it is taking me a bit longer to post even though I shoot for weekly). I hope they are not too lengthy but I have a few POV's I like to include. What did you guys think of Hokey? Tom did her so wrong in Canon, planting false memories in the poor elf and making her think she killed Hesbeth Smith, I wanted it to go a bit differently in this fic. I hope I painted a vivid enough picture of Riddle Manor and the surrounding grounds, not my strong point! If not, you can always check out my photobucket I have linked on my profile to see where my head was at as far as inspiration goes. As always, feel free to leave me a review, let me know you are out there! I am happy to hear feedback regardless if its positive or not-it can be very helpful. Thanks and until next time!** **  
 **~AR****


	7. Chapter 7: Getting to Know One Another

**000**

"You have owl post dear," Bellatrix called from the parlor.

Hermione glided through the room with her gown trailing on the floor behind her. Today, she had _remembered_ to be ready for her mother's arrival.

The woman was far too critical, and near about had a cow when she assessed Hermione in her rumpled state the day prior. Today, Hermione was careful when she explored the grounds on the front of the house. She casted a _Scourgify_ upon her return and a _Tergeo_ for good measure.

The side gardens were as beautiful as she remembered from her whirlwind of a wedding. They were even as lovely as the grounds in the back had been. The stables were bustling with servants, Hermione thought most of them were Muggle, though she did spot a man from a distance she thought she recognized. She brushed it off as simply a relative of someone she knew from the future. Otherwise, her explorations that day were fairly unremarkable.

Worried about meeting _him_ at the breakfast table, Hermione tried not to think about their impromptu kiss the night before or how her mother had thankfully, _yes thankfully_ , interrupted them. The man was insufferable, to be able to evoke such feelings in her as he had, especially when she had much bigger problems to deal with than annoying feelings.

Hermione had approached the breakfast table as if nothing were amiss, greeting Tom amicably and making pleasant table talk. He was ever the gentlemen, conversing with her civilly and even offering to give her a tour of his own. She quickly declined, to which he let a smirk slip through his gentlemen façade. She was not terribly keen on the idea of being alone with him; it made her _far_ too uneasy.

Once through with her explorations of the house, Bellatrix had already arrived and was waiting for her. As before, Hermione begged for a dueling lesson.

"Oh please, mother," she whined. "There are only so many cleaning or beautification spells a girl needs. Can't we get to the dueling yet? I am more than proficient in the others."

Bellatrix dipped a scone in her tea before popping it into her mouth. "Yes, but I think you are cheating; using wandless magic. Besides, you have no need to learn dueling anyway."

Hermione could tell right away something was wrong, her mother was not as cheerful as usual, even a bit demure. "What is it mum?" Bellatrix looked around to see if anyone else was nearby. "He is in his potion's lab." Hermione had informed her.

"Okay," Bellatrix began in a hushed tone. "You need to listen. Lord Riddle is not one to be trifled with and you'd better not push his buttons. There is no need to teach you dueling, especially if you mean to duel your husband; there is no way you could stand against the man for thirty seconds."

Hermione bristled at this declaration. "I thought you knew him mum. Now all the sudden he is _someone not to be trifled with_? When did you come to that conclusion, because it's a bit too late." _I have done my share of trifling_.

"It is not too late," Bellatrix shook her head slightly disheveled. "The man is dangerous, Rodolphus told me who-, er, that is to say, more about him. You need to be careful, you need to please him. And Mildy, no more of this Muggle sympathizing, please?"

Hermione felt anger clawing to the surface of her mind, why was Bellatrix was in such a state over the man? Honestly, why did everyone fear him so? Sure, he was a competent wizard but for Merlin's sake, he wasn't a god! Hermione resolved to tell Bellatrix what she wanted to hear, but she would continue on undeterred. _No one_ intimidated her.

"Fine, _mum_ ," she relented. "I will be _pleasing_ to him. But I still wish to learn dueling. Tom doesn't even mind—he told me there are dueling contests at parties and such. There would be no harm in it. For Merlin's sake, I do not plan on challenging anyone to a life or death match."

Bellatrix eyed her warily, suspicion evident in her gaze. "I suppose, and there's no one better to teach you than I. I was the only witch in the Hogwarts dueling club in my year."

"See," Hermione pointed out while inwardly rolling her eyes that not more witches were interested in dueling. "That _Professor Lupin_ must have been alright to allow a female dueler."

"Hermione," Bellatrix warned.

Hermione put her hands up in surrender.

"Come on, then, out in the gardens where we won't destroy things."

Hermione eagerly stood to attention. "How about the side gardens? It's well canopied and will keep us from sight."

Bellatrix seemed to like this idea very much, though Hermione did not care a bit who happened upon them. Dueling was something she must learn regardless of the risk.

Following Bellatrix through the gardens they soon made it to their destination and Hermione took up a dueling stance some distance away from her mother.

"Now then," Began Bellatrix. "To be a competent dueler you must be many things. Firstly, a multi tasker, your partner will likely not take turns throwing curses at you like it's some game; you must be prepared. A good dueler can throw hexes and curses while simultaneously blocking, dodging or throwing up a shield to avoid a spell. You must be quick on your feet and know when you can block a spell versus when you must jump out of the way."

Hermione nodded, soaking it all in as excitement coursed through her veins. She thrived in a learning environment and she was sure she could pick up a lot from her fierce mother .

"A skilled dueler will not always do you the favor of saying the spells they use, you need to recognize the colors of the spells as they shoot out from the wand and deduce quickly the proper way to deal with them," Bellatrix continued. "Remember, it is not _just_ defensive magic that will help you in a duel; charms and transfiguration can be rather useful. Imagine turning your enemy into a ferret right before you? That would render them quite useless wouldn't it? But that is advanced stuff, go ahead and throw your first curse at me."

Raising her wand, Hermione threw a _Stupefy_ at her. Bellatrix deflected it lazily.

"That's very poor work, keep trying and put more energy into it this time."

Hermione remembered the way she had been angry and sent stronger _Stupefys_ Tom's way. She channeled that anger now and was able to add to the power of the spell. Bellatrix even had to dodge out of the way once, but never bothered putting up a shield.

"Let's try an add something, give you more of a variety," Bellatrix thought aloud. "Ever heard of the knock-back jinx?"

Hermione furrowed her brows studiously in thought. "With the incantation _Flipendo_?"

"Yes! We will work on that next. Go on then, give it your best try."

Hermione raised her wand before enunciating quite clearly, " _Flipendo_!"

Again, Bellatrix deflected it with a lazy flick of her wrist. "That's worse than a first year Mildy! For Slytherin's sake at least charge up your wand first. Like this, until you see the blue light on the tip, release it when it turns that purple-red color, wait any longer and it will backfire on you; feels like a punch in the gut, it does."

Hermione did as instructed and was thrilled to see a more powerful curse shoot out of her wand. Bellatrix threw up a shield to block it.

"It's good," Bellatrix commented. "But not good enough. You'll need more force behind it, keep trying."

And so she did, and the morning flew by as Hermione learned to strengthen her casting. Bellatrix even taught her deflecting charms and how to cast a simple _Protego_. When the sun had risen higher in the sky, Bellatrix decided it was time they headed back.

"Don't worry, we will keep working on it," Bellatrix soothed her. "Slytherin knows you need it. These were the basics; we will add more... _uncommon_ spells later." She headed back to the parlor and Hermione followed.

"Thank you, mother," Hermione said, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress as they walked. One of the servants must have collected the post and deposited it on the sideboard. Curious, she tentatively reached for it. Shuffling through, she saw most of them were for Tom but she was surprised to see one addressed specifically to her. She placed it stealthily in her dress pocket and then noticed a crystal sphere.

Bellatrix sauntered over nosily. "Looks like you've got an _invitational_ dear."

Hermione curiously fingered the smooth surface. "How does it work?" But she needn't have asked because the movement of her fingers had seemed to coax the ball open. In a swirl of silver glitter, the sphere opened, revealing the beautiful parchment within which promptly began _speaking_.

She felt like a Muggle as she had to remember to pick her jaw up at the clever display of magic, something _no one_ had the fortitude to show in her time. She listened in awe to the musical voice that came out of the parchment.

"You are cordially invited to the annual Greengrass Masquarade Ball, occurring this Friday eve. Come in your best costume wear for a magical evening of entertainment, dancing, and libations," spoke the parchment. "Sincerely, Daphne Greengrass."

The letter neatly curled itself back up into a sphere when it was through delivering the message.

"Ah," Bellatrix said, picking at her nails. "The Masquarade. The Greengrasses always put one on around Samhain. What will you go as?"

"I-I don't know," Hermione sputtered. "Am I required to attend this?"

"Why of course! Don't be silly. Every proper Pureblood lady will be in attendance."

Hermione blanched at this bit of news. Indeed, the last thing she wanted was make a fool of herself at some uppity society event and in front of Tom's mistress no less. Really, she had to remember that she was not here for her own benefit; her main concern was to prevent an catastrophic future. She knew the job would be tough, but Hermione had the advantage of knowing what went wrong before, surely her presence here would not make things any worse? But how best to accomplish her secret mission? Hermione doubted anyone would listen to her, especially with the reputation of being some crazy recluse. Perhaps the best way to achieve her goals was to play the part of a proper Pureblood lady—her original plan upon happening into this world that was so different from her own.

She gritted her teeth in resolve; if there was one thing she was good at it was surviving. If this situation she found herself in required her to play this part—she would play it well, regardless if she must do so in front of Tom's mistress with all of society to bear witness.

"What time is it at?" Hermione asked a bit defensively.

"If you have any questions," Bellatrix said, "ask the _invitational_ ; it will answer them for you."

Hermione eyed the globe skeptically. "Alright mother. Any tips for your only daughter's first ball? What am I supposed to wear to such an event?"

"Hmm," Bellatrix mused. "How about a ghoul or a werewolf?"

She could not help but grimace at the dark suggestions but really, could she expect anything less from this particular woman? She forced a cheerful nod. "Very well. It seems I have much to prepare for, shall we meet again the same time tomorrow?"

"Your father would like to see you again sometime…perhaps dinner?" Bellatrix asked expectantly.

Sighing inwardly at the prospect of another Lestrange-Riddle dinner sure to be filled with Pureblood rhetoric, Hermione had to remind herself she was a Pureblood herself, and she'd be expected to deal with it. "Of course mother, only let's meet this weekend after the ball."

"I suppose," Bellatrix said graciously.

"See you soon mother," Hermione said embracing the dainty woman in a goodbye hug.

"Of course, Mildy," Bellatrix agreed and then pulled back to look at Hermione seriously. "And do remember what I said about Lord Riddle."

Steeling herself, she swallowed her pride and simply nodded in attempt to reveal nothing but acceptance in her eyes. Bellatrix eyed her suspiciously, before seeming content with what she saw and departing. Hermione let out a deep breath she was unaware she'd been holding before running over to the bar and fishing for the letter she had hastily placed at the bottom.

This letter was not as extravagant as Daphne's. It was simply addressed to Hermione in a decidedly careless script. She opened it curiously and, to her delight, saw it was an invitation from Ginny Weasley to join her for tea that afternoon. She felt much more light-hearted at the prospect of an afternoon with someone she'd very much like to get to know better.

Stricken with an unwelcome feeling of guilt as she remembered Bellatrix's parting words to stay away from Muggle sympathizers, she glanced at the stairwell to Tom's Potion Chamber. The man had been in there all morning, surely he wouldn't notice her absence? Regardless if he did or not, Hermione's mission in life was to deflect the horrible future she knew from ever existing. How better to do that than to befriend the resistance? Still, she knew she was walking a fine line and any decisions she made would need to be well-thought-out and calculated. The best course of action was probably to play her part as Lady Riddle while making stealthy moves behind the scenes. Then, when the time was right, she could throw the gauntlet down and make her stance known.

Feeling more confidence than she had before, Hermione cast one last defiant glance towards the Potions Chamber before grabbing her cloak and hurrying to the double doors in the entry way. Gripping her wand, she was excited to practice Apprating and put more of Bellatrix's lessons to use. Cursing Tom inwardly for not adjusting the wards to let her Apparate within Riddle grounds as he was able to do, she trudged out towards the forest without a backwards glance where she knew she would be able to Apparate the short distance to the Burrow. She needed the practice, really.

Hermione swallowed down the feelings of guilt at her blatant disobedience. She was unsure if Bellatrix meant well, it truly did seem as though the woman was developing motherly feelings towards her, but Hermione had a greater goal than pleasing her new mother. Besides, what Bellatrix didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

 **000**

Lightly placing the tea cups on the doilies, Ginny hoped that her invitation to the new Lady of Riddle Manor would not go unnoticed. She set up her mother's best tea set, recoiling when she noticed the sugar dispenser had a small chip in it. She hoped her brothers were wrong and that she hadn't scared the girl off.

Begrudgingly, Ginny had to admit that she was impressed by what Fred and George had overheard. It seemed Hermione Riddle nee Lestrange shared a great many ideals with her. Perhaps she could prove to be an ally in the future, a secret weapon for those that opposed the Grindelwald regime? When had they ever known someone so close to the wizards in power who could possibly wish to work with them? Or maybe Ginny was simply being fanciful; it was hard to tell at this point, hence the reason for asking Hermione to tea today. If she turned out to be just another Pansy or Daphne, it was better to gauge this out early. Like the old adage said, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

At that moment, Ginny sensed the presence of someone crossing Weasley wards. She felt a burden lifted from her chest at the realization Hermione had accepted her request to meet for tea. Lifting her skirts, Ginny hurried outside to meet the girl she knew so little about.

Ginny spotted her right away sauntering carefree through the posy surrounding the Burrow. Hermione seemed surprised when she looked up to meet Ginny's gaze but then she soon smiled enthusiastically. Ginny returned her smile as she strolled up to greet her.

"Gin," Hermione said warmly, coming up to pull a surprised Ginny in a friendly embrace. "I was so pleased to receive your invitation for tea. It gets so dreadfully lonesome at the Manor."

"Oh." Ginny was slightly taken aback by Hermione's forward manner — it rivaled her own. "I am happy to have you. Please won't you come in?"

"Of course," Hermione replied. "What a lovely home you have. The river is quite beautiful over here, isn't it? I daresay you can swim in that section there." She pointed to an area Percy and Bill had cleared out when they were children, digging up the surrounding earth to deepen the natural pool. It was something her brothers and she had quite enjoyed partaking in—a dip in the cool waters on a hot summer's day, but was Hermione Riddle prone to such unladylike behavior?

"Swim?" Ginny repeated carefully. Pureblood ladies _did not_ swim.

"Oh yes," Hermione nodded. "I do not know how to swim myself, but now that I am free from my parents ruling, I will be able to explore a great many opportunities I haven't had the chance to before."

"If your husband allows you to," Ginny said before she could stop herself. Horrified, she looked quickly up at Hermione who looked sharply back. "I am sorry. My mother says I have no sense of propriety."

"It's quite alright," Hermione granted as they headed inside. "Please do not think you need to guard yourself around me." Ginny eyed her shrewdly; she just bet Hermione would like Ginny to speak candidly. She still was undecided about where her loyalties lay. "Besides, you needn't worry about me being dominated by my husband; I have always found myself to be slightly ahead of my time. I assure you, I can take care of myself."

Ginny fiddled with her dress awkwardly. "My apologies. Won't you take a seat?" She gestured to the small table in the quaint parlor Ginny knew had to be much smaller than the one at Riddle Manor.

"I would love to. This is quite lovely." She perched daintily on her seat.

Ginny waved her hand dismissively. "It's not great but it is home." She took a seat opposite Hermione filling her tea cup from the quickly cooling pot. "Oh I'm sorry, that's probably not the right temperature for you. Here, let me heat it up." Ginny made to get up and retrieve her wand but Hermione stopped her by placing a hand on hers.

"No need," Hermione said serenely and Ginny watched entranced as the tea began to steam under Hermione's attentions. Ginny did not think she had ever seen anyone perform wandless and nonverbal magic at the same time before. Her eyes widened at the spectacle. Hermione met her stare and shifted uncomfortably.

She gingerly took a sip of tea. "Sorry, habit, you know. My parents confiscated my wand often. I had a lot of time on my hands to teach myself simple wandless magic…" She trailed off hesitantly.

Ginny had to physically shake herself; she had never seen a witch use wandless and nonverbal magic before and was impressed, if not a little wary. She had not pegged Hermione to be such a powerful witch. Clearly, there was much more to the new Lady Riddle than Ginny had expected.

Hearing her mother's voice in the back of her head telling her never to let a silence linger when entertaining, Ginny hurried to fill the void. "So how is married life?" She grabbed a plate of crumpets and offered them to Hermione. The witch took from the plate gratefully.

"It's only been a few days, but so far there is definitely a lot more freedom," Hermione dipped a crumpet in her tea and sucked on it thoughtfully. Ginny tried not to blanch at her odd behavior.

"I do wish I could get to know Tom a bit better. He's been so occupied with work lately."

Digesting this information, Ginny felt a pang of pity for the girl. Hermione hardly knew her husband, unlike Ginny and Harry who had practically grown up together. It must be hard to enter into such a binding contract with someone you knew nothing about. Ginny hoped that when she and Harry would enter into a marriage bond, for surely he would propose to her after all this Grindelwald business was over, they would have an easier time of it.

Feeling giddy at the thought of her own nuptials, Ginny suggested, "What does he like to do? Perhaps you should develop similar interests so you could spend more time together?"

"Well...he's been in his Potions Chamber all morning."

"Potions, now that is an, er-interesting subject. Do you like potions?"

"I don't know, I've only read about it." Hermione gazed longingly at nothing in particular. " _In theory_ I suppose I know a great many potions recipes. I am sure I could learn to like it."

"And I am sure Lord Riddle would appreciate the sentiment."

Hermione looked skeptical at the suggestion.

"Don't give me that look," Ginny chided playfully. "Try it. You want to at least make an effort don't you? You may be surprised where it leads."

"Very well, it's worth a shot, isn't it?" She dabbed her napkin carefully on the corner of her lips. "So, what do you know of this costume party thing Daphne is throwing?"

"I am sure it will be quite the event, knowing the Greengrasses."

"But I have no idea what to go as and I am utterly lost!"

"Well," Ginny began uncomfortably. "I've never been invited to one of Daphne's Masquerades myself. It's probably for the better; I am no good in uppity social situations like that. Oh, not that it won't be grand, I am sure it will be quite the spectacle."

"Oh Gin, I am sorry, how insensitive of me," she said softly.

"It's fine really," Ginny assured her. "Daphne and Pansy were always ahead of me in school but we did not run in the same circles. I was more target practice than someone they would invite to a party. Milly and Olive were in my grade but they were happy to exclude me."

"They sound positively horrid, Ginny."

"It wasn't all bad; I got a great education in defensive magic," Ginny noticed the anxious look on Hermione's face and attempted to soothe her. "Don't worry, no one would dare pull those kind of pranks there, and especially on you, Purebloods are above such plebeian displays. It is more their style to invite you to a duel to the death than to pounce on you at a society function."

Hermione did not look convinced so Ginny tried again. "Really it will not be bad at all. The ladies will be in beautiful flowing dresses and clever costumes. The men will be in finely tailored suits and dress robes with their masquerade masks. Daphne will surely make the most delectable food choices. The music will be lovely and couples will dance the night away. Later in the evening, there will be friendly dueling and maybe even fireworks. Oh...it will be so grand Hermione."

"Gin, you simply _must_ come with me."

"But I told you, the invitational-," Ginny was cut off.

" _I_ am inviting you, you and an escort of course, and I am sure the Blacks are invited. We can all go together."

"I doubt Riddle, Nott, and Malfoy would like that idea, Hermione, you'd better check with them first. They've likely already made plans."

"It makes no difference if a few more couples join," Hermione said dismissively. "But if you are so concerned, I will speak to him about it tonight."

"Hermione, are you sure about this? I think I tried to explain to you before that the Weasleys really aren't in the same circles you're running in."

"Well those circles don't sound very enticing to me. Look Gin, I think we could have a good time at this ball, make it really fun with great company."

"You're probably right," Ginny agreed, playing with her hands uncomfortably. "But I don't have anything to wear, and isn't it in just a few days?"

"Yes it is, that's why I was hoping you could help me with my costume. I don't even know how to go about designing it, or what shops to go to, really I am lost. I was hoping we could shop together, my treat for helping me? If I ask my mum for help it will probably turn out to be something dreadfully dark."

"The way I'd go about it is shopping for materials, and then transfiguring them into the costume you want, I think it's the quicker way."

"See, you are already way ahead of me. Won't you come shopping with me tomorrow? In the morning I am busy, but we can go after tea-time."

"Do you have any idea what costume you would want to wear Hermione?"

"My mum suggested I go as a werewolf and that's about all I've got so far."

"Oh no," Ginny disagreed adamantly. "That simply won't do. Something more forestry, like a woodland nymph."

Hermione remembered something and smiled as an idea sprang to her mind. "How about a fae?" she asked.

"A fae?"

"Yes like a fairy."

"Oh with wings and a fringy skirt?"

"Well yes something like that. And the nice thing is you and Tonks could go as fairies too, if you'd like. We could just switch up the colors and styles, it would be fun!"

"Sounds great, Hermione, and mother has taught me all she knows about transfiguration charms; I'd have them fixed up in no time. But you'd better clue Lord Riddle in, Hermione; couples usually match with each other."

"Oh wonderful, good to know. You'd better tell, Charles, or will you be bringing one of your brothers?"

Ginny had to stifle a laugh at the thought of bringing her fictitious cousin Charles again. "No, I will probably bring Charles to escort me."

"Great! Do you think you can coordinate with Tonks and Sirius? I hope she can come along tomorrow."

"Of course, I'll be seeing Sirius this evening actually, I can pass along the message."

"Alright then. And don't worry, the ball will be fun. We will iron out the details of the costumes tomorrow?"

"Okay," Ginny said feeling reluctant yet a bit excited at the same time.

"Sounds lovely." Hermione got up to leave. "Thank you ever so much for the tea, we will have to do it again soon."

Ginny walked her to the door. "Sure Hermione, I'll meet you tomorrow at the Manor?"

"Yes, we can take the carriage to town."

Ginny bid Hermione farewell and watched her head the short distance to the Apparition point and promptly disappear.

Despite her uneasiness, Ginny was feeling very excited about the prospect of the ball on Friday and could not believe Hermione was so quick to invite her. She had expected for this tea session to be enlightening and to discover more about Hermione Riddle. Ginny found out that she was very generous, adept at wandless magic, and very vocal about injustices. Unless it was all an act. Yet Ginny's instinct was telling her Hermione was genuine.

Ginny resolved to watch and observe some more, it wouldn't do to make a decision about it _now_. A slight thrill shot through her at the prospect of Harry taking her to a ball, apparently she'd have to ask the twins if they had more modified Polyjuice potion.

 **000**

Originally, Tom had been slightly annoyed upon entering his Potions Chamber that morning.

Not only was he upset at the way Hermione had seemed to have recovered from her shocked state the evening prior when she appeared at the breakfast table, but he noticed she had breached his wards in his private chamber, too, and very strong wards, at that. He had never troubled with adding to the layers of his wards since he only employed Muggle servants who wouldn't know the first thing about breaching them and his knights who would not dare sneak around the place. The exterior wards however, he had taken great care in reinforcing. It had been a pain to momentarily let them down for the wedding.

Today Tom welcomed the therapeutic feeling that came with brewing potions. Using an _Augumenti_ charm to fill his copper cauldron half-way, he silently cast bluebell flames, slowly bringing the water to the proper temperature. As he worked on crushing moonstone to a fine powder, Tom's mind wandered to the tasks ahead of him.

It was irritating to be doing Grindelwald's dirty work but he consoled himself that when the time came to eradicate the dark wizard, the steps he was taking now would ensure his power later. Still, he was not keen on meeting with the giants; it was not a task he would have delegated to himself but this potion he was brewing should help things along.

Always creeping its way to the forefront of his mind were thoughts of Hermione. Yesterday had been surprisingly entertaining for him. He found he rather liked to see her distressed; it fit her well in Tom's mind, much better than casting _Stupefys_ at him. Easily riled, walking headfirst into danger, speaking before thinking… all qualities Tom abhorred. Why, she reminded him of a bloody Gryffindor — one part courageous, three parts fool. He would simply have to rein her in; it would never do to have her going around town embarrassing him.

It seemed with her newfound freedom, she thought she could trot through the woods unescorted and partake in impromptu duels whenever she pleased. He would also have to put his foot down about all the Muggle sympathizing. She had not come out and said anything illegal per se, but she was treading a thin line. He would need to see to it that she kept good company, like Daphne or Pansy. They were a bit older than her but surely they could teach her how a proper lady was to act. Then, if she still did not conform to his ideas of an ideal wife, he would resort to more _creative_ methods.

Floating the Ashwinder egg over to his work space, Tom took off the stasis charm and hovered the rare frozen egg wandlessly over the now boiling cauldron.

He sighed when he felt the breaching of his wards. Looking up, he watched Hermione stumble inside, falling victim to the tripping charm he had implemented. With an exhale, Tom rushed over to steady her. At this proximity, he noted from a scientific perspective of course, the way she smelled of freesia and vanilla mixed with parchment. Still having hold of her arm, he looked down to notice her mouth had parted slightly and her eyes had dilated almost imperceptibly as she regained her balance.

He released her quickly, and was not surprised when she was the first to speak.

"I do not see how a tripping spell is supposed to deter people from entry," she said imperiously as she moseyed up to his bubbling cauldron and poked her nosy head over the potion.

"It only needs to deter you," Tom said, bringing the mortar of crushed moonstone to his concoction.

"So there are areas in the house forbidden to me?" She could not take her eyes off his potion as she challenged him.

"I can't have you coming in here messing up my work, now can I?" Tom deflected.

"Perhaps I can help," Hermione said smoothly as she fixed him with a charming grin. He knew a smile like that would probably dazzle some men, but he was not one to fall victim to such frivolities.

"I have thirteen O.W.L.S. and potions is probably my best subject. If one can select from perfection, do you really deign to think I need your help?"

She took a deep breath. "No." She lifted her chin once more, seemingly determined to not let his foul mood wear off on her. "But perhaps you can teach me? I feel slightly robbed of my education and you clearly are a potions expert. I can assure you, I am an excellent pupil."

"Why would I want to teach you?" Tom remembered how he had to tutor First Years at the request of Professor Slughorn. He abhorred it then and the thought of it sounded revolting now. "I do not have the time to start at square one with _you_."

"But I am not _just anybody_ " she said and finally Tom saw her eyes spring alight with a dangerous spark. "I am your wife and you wouldn't be starting from _square one_ , I know all the potions and their ingredients, I just need to _practice_."

"Is that so?" He was almost amused that the girl was insisting on spending time alone with him. If only she knew he'd sooner have her writhing on the floor under his _Cruciatus_ curse than tutor her.

"Yes, Tom, it is," Hermione came around the cauldron and put Tom's dragonhide gloves on so she could grab the Sneezewort plant. She brought it over to the work space and began stripping the leaves off of it. "Moonstone, Ashwinder egg...clearly your next ingredient is Sneezewort leaves. It's obvious you're making Gregory's Unctuous Unction potion." She looked up at him triumphantly as if she expected praise.

Tom would have been impressed at her deduction if he was not mortified at the way she was shredding the leaves. He quickly shoved her out of the way grabbing the plant without the aid of gloves before she could ruin any more of it, and finished the job himself.

"Clearly you need a lesson in Herbology before _anything else_ ," Tom said cuttingly. "Perhaps there are some Second Year Hogwarts students that can teach you the basics?" As he spoke, he worked diligently, ignoring the way the stems from the Sneezewort burned his hands. He hurried to finish extracting the leaves clean off before adding them to the potion.

"Oh, Tom." Hermione came up to him and grabbed hold of his hands to ascertain the damage, ignoring his jibe. Tom wanted to yank them away. "Unlock your potion cabinet so I can grab some of that Burn-healing paste I saw in there."

Reluctantly, Tom pointed his wand at the cabinet and cast the incantation non-verbally so Hermione would not know the unlocking spell. She rolled her eyes before hastening over to extract the vial while she simultaneously removed his gloves off her hands. Her hand hovered too long over the Felix Felicis.

"Do not even think about touching _my_ Liquid Luck," he warned.

Hermione whipped her hand down. "I wasn't going to," she snapped.

She hurried back over to Tom and took one of his hands in hers . He tried to ignore the jolt he felt at her touch and the way his heart rate quickened. He didn't usually have this reaction to pain, but he supposed he was put off kilter by her presence and was perturbed she could have that effect on him.

She extracted some paste from the vial and began rubbing soothing circles into his open palms. Tom swallowed thickly as he tried not to think about how good it felt to have her touching him and massaging cream into his burning skin. Their heads were both bowed as he watched her work silently. He thought he heard her breathing speed up.

She looked up at him then and Tom was entranced by the way her eyes had darkened. He was intoxicated by her heady scent, so overwhelming this close to him..

"Sorry." Her apology came out in a husky breath. "Perhaps you're right; I need a tutor."

Tom was captivated by the way her lips were moving as she spoke. He was brought back to yesterday when he had met those delectable lips with his own. He resisted the strong urge to do so now. No, the rebellious little witch would _not_ lure him.

She continued rubbing in the salve and spoke again quietly, "So why are you making that potion? Who do you need to think of you as their best friend?"

Mentally shaking himself, he wrenched his hands away and whirled around grabbing the next ingredient, the Lovage, before lowering it to the potion. Looking for his stirring stick, he was annoyed when he saw her holding it out for him waiting expectantly for his reply.

"I don't have the time to answer your non-stop questions, or to tutor you." She grimaced at his harsh tone."There is _far_ too much to teach anyway."

She huffed as she went to the other side of the cauldron and watched him stir counter-clockwise. "Then I will just come in here bugging you every chance I get, from dawn until dusk." Her threat lay heavy in the air. "Unless you can commit to one hour a day's lesson. Not on days you are away of course."

Tom looked up and narrowed his eyes at her.

Hermione continued on undeterred. "We can go over the basics of Herbology, Potions, even Astronomy," she said the last part gesturing to the platform with the telescope. "Oh please Tom, I promise I will be a good student."

"I'll think about it," Tom granted. At this point he just wanted the insufferable witch to leave. He still despised the idea of being hounded on a daily basis.

Hermione smiled victoriously as if she had already won.

"Now won't you please leave? See if Hokey can bring you some _Witches Weekly_ magazines or something."

"But Tom I haven't even begun to discuss the reason I came here in the first place."

Tom inwardly rolled his eyes. "What is it now?"

"Well the Greengrasses are throwing a ball on Friday, and well, don't we have to discuss what we want to go as?"

"Ah yes, the annual Masquerade, _you_ decide, that is _your_ business." Tom waved his hand dismissively.

"Okay, I have decided." Tom was nearly to the point of _imperioing_ her to leave. "I'll be a fae, so why don't you go as a faun or something?"

"A faun? You must be joking. Wizards do not dress all out in their costumes as the witches do. I'll probably just match my robes to yours or wear an eye mask or something of that nature."

"How incredibly sexist," she said, brows furrowed.

Tom's jaw nearly dropped to the floor at this statement but he quickly schooled his features.

Flippantly, she said, "Whatever then." Tom had to arch an eyebrow at her callous speech. "I am going to go dress shopping with Ginny tomorrow, so goodbye." She rushed out the last few words quickly as she turned to leave.

He was infuriated at this bit of news, and whipped out his wand, leveling it directly at her to float her precariously back to him, depositing her roughly on the ground. She stumbled and this time Tom did not steady her as she landed on her bum.

"Not so fast, little witch," he said dangerously. "What is this about dress shopping with the blood-traitors?"

Hermione glared up at him boldly from her position on the ground. Tom found he rather liked towering over her. "You were nice to the Weasleys at the wedding. Now it's suddenly not okay for me to be friendly with the neighbors?"

Tom marveled at the girl's complete disregard for her own safety. Did she not have the good enough sense to yield to power when she was so thoroughly outmatched? She was too courageous for her own good, but Tom would see that courage flee once he allowed himself a go at her.

"You are not to associate with the blood-traitors. If you would like to go shopping with someone, Daphne or Pansy would make perfectly acceptable companions. He crouched down leveling his gaze at her. "Is that understood Hermione?"

"Absolutely not," she spit out defiance lacing her features. "I would like to see you try and make me."

Tom stepped back surprised, oh he would not only try but would enjoy _making her_. Yet now was not the time; he'd likely ruined his potion and would need to start all over again.

"Ginny is my friend." She got up and dusted off her dress. "You had better accept that. I do not need the help of _Daphne or Pansy_ , thank you very much."

"Hermione, I am warning you," he said quietly.

"Very well, warning received," she said sassily and with that, she walked off, leaving him abruptly alone in the chamber without a second glance.

 _Let her defy me-she will live to rue the day_ , he vowed. He may have been easy on her thus far, caving into her silly demands upon meeting the little minx, but he would give her a thorough education as to why he is feared by all. Her feminine ways would not woo him as she likely took for granted that they would. _The damned insufferable witch_ , he thought darkly his blood pumping, _she will see what happens if you cross Lord Voldemort._

 **000**

 **A/N: Ah, so Hermione has been warned repeatedly, will she take everyone's advice to heart? If I know Hermione, I would say there is a fat chance of that. Tom may have been flustered by Vlaine the Fae's little wrinkle in time number he pulled, depositing someone who had no place to be there right in the thick of things, but now Tom has regained his footing, and we will probably see Lord Voldemort come to play. Oh I do worry for her, she runs so recklessly into peril when she is passionate about something. I have dropped a lot of subtle hints along the way of things big and small to come, I wonder if you guys have caught them? I try not to write predictably, it is most definitely a challenge not to but I for sure try. If you caught the ferret remark, that was for Draco, another crush of mine, though he likely would not appreciate being associated with the ferret C:**


	8. Chapter 8: There is No Good and Evil

**A/N: Hello guys! I am happy to say I have another chapter here for your reading pleasure, I hope you like it. I definitely wanted to have it up for you guys within the week but the next update may be a bit longer coming as I am going to work on Tomione Kink's New Year's challenge fic on Tumblr. I will post that once the challenge is finished. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy this long chapter.**

 **A special thanks to:** **riddlesgurl86,** **LadiePhoenix007,** **PinkSlytherin ,** **mega700201 ,** **NatTheOne ,** **Edgeofmyseat,** **tneha,** **ImperialGoddess-123 ,** **AutumnsSun,** **EmyleeChristina ,** **marzipan4,** **ava, and all the guests-Thanks ever so much for the feedback, it is VERY inspiring. Happy reading!  
~Ariel**

 **000**

Hermione tried to keep up the façade of a dutiful daughter and attentive student the next morning while in the presence of of her mother. She found this very difficult to accomplish as thoughts of the evening before in the Potions Lab consumed her mind. The nerve of the man! Ordering her about as if she were some child. He was probably used to people obeying him with no question but Hermione refused to be ruled over so. Besides, there was much she had to learn, and she felt slightly victorious that Tom had almost agreed to tutor her, even if he only said he'd think about it—Hermione would pester him until that thought became a reality.

Hermione inwardly winced at the way things took a turn when she mentioned Ginny attending the ball. Merlin, if he was so prejudiced towards people who simply sympathized with Muggleborns, imagine what he would think of her—a Mudblood slave from the future? Well she'd probably find herself tarred and feathered if not sectioned and quartered—whatever they did to people in this time.

Hermione could not help giggling at her morbid thoughts which earned her a stern look from Bellatrix. Really, it was no laughing matter, but this was the turning point in the war against Muggles and Muggleborns. She could not afford to blend in with normal society and stand idly by as they all became enslaved to Purebloods or hunted for sport.

By her calculations, sometime in the next ten years, Lord Voldemort would rise into power which would inevitably lead to Potter's end. She simply had to make what little stands she could, even if it was only in front of her husband.

Poor Tom, she mused, he only probably ever wanted a proper wife—a Pureblood he could be proud of and he ended up with me. Hermione felt a flicker of sympathy towards the man but quickly shook it off. What was wrong with her? Tom had cast some spell to make her float in the air to him like some wayward puppy—the nerve of him! She knew it hadn't been the Imperius curse, as Hermione was sure she could recognize that particular unforgivable along with its sister curse—the Cruciatus. No, the insufferable yet highly resourceful man seemed to come up with his own curses. Oh joy.

What Hermione objected to even more was the way her traitorous body seemed to ignite under his touch, despite his propensity to hex her. It was ridiculous that a mere brushing of skin could affect her so. But when she had held his hand, there was no denying the jolt of pleasure she felt, especially when she began applying the paste in his burned skin. Hermione wondered if he had felt it too? It was hard to tell with Tom's ever present inscrutable features but she highly doubted it; he hadn't tried to kiss her again, had he?

She tried not to bristle at this revelation—why would she He seemed more liable to throw the Cruciatus curse at her than kiss her. She seemed to have a knack for riling him up quite thoroughly. Well, he can throw his best at me. Hermione was confident she could take whatever he had in store for her despite his thinly veiled threats.

Managing to pay attention to Bellatrix's lesson despite her distracting thoughts, Hermione was fiercely proud of herself. Her mother actually seemed pleased with her performance in dueling today.

"You are catching on quite quickly," Bellatrix praised. "I daresay you are a natural."

Hermione preened under the compliment.

"Still slow to the draw though," Bellatrix said grabbing a sandwich off of the tray Hokey had brought for them. Hermione felt herself quickly deflate. "No matter you will get there. Who did your hair this morning?"

"I did it myself," Hermione boasted. "Gin-, er that is to say would you like some gin?"

"Not at this hour," Bellatrix waved her off grabbing a lemon-raspberry scone.

"Oh well, I read about some sticking charms this morning in Witches Weekly." Hermione quickly recovered from her near lapse.

"Oh very good," Bellatrix praised between a mouthful of food. "Why, you would do Pansy Parkinson proud."

Hermione bristled at the back-handed compliment; Bellatrix eyed her shrewdly sensing full well her distaste for the girl. Hermione looked down at the blue gown she had selected for the day; it had a floral overlay and lace fringe at the neckline and elbows. She supposed the impromptu updue she arranged on her soft curls, not so very unruly since Vlain had cast the softening spell on them, but still slightly wild as was her trademark, was painting the picture of a proper witch—one that belonged in this world.

"Have you got the material to transfigure?" Bellatrix raised her eyebrows expectantly. "You know I can help you."

"I think I've got it," Hermione quickly replied. "I am going to send Hokey for some supplies today and I have some ideas for how I'd like to transfigure them."

She hated lying to Bellatrix, who had become not only a mentor to her but also a motherly figure, but it was for the best—what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I'll just let it be a surprise, mother."

"Very well," Bellatrix conceded. "If you change your mind, you need only owl me. I suppose I'd better go home and work on my own outfit—the event is tomorrow after all, so no lesson tomorrow." Hermione nodded getting up to walk Bellatrix to the entry way. "And Hermione, you should try to make it to town a time or two a week; it's unseemly not to."

"Of course, mother. Perhaps at the ball I will make some friends there."

Bellatrix eyed her skeptically; Hermione hoped that Bellatrix did not sense she was hiding something.

"Perhaps," Bellatrix granted as she turned to leave.

Hermione watched her go, slightly ruffled at the fact that Tom had cleared Bellatrix to Apparate to and from the front entrance but not Hermione herself. Glancing at the large grandfather clock, she hurried to grab her cloak. She ran to the stables summoning one of the Muggle servants to take her via carriage to town. It was time for her much-awaited date with Ginny.

 **000**

Thoroughly enjoying the short trip from Riddle Manor to Diagon Ally, Ginny and Hermione hopped out of the open top carriage eager to start their shopping expedition. It was a crisp October day but the girl's simply cast warming charms relishing in the view provided by the carriage. Ginny was surprised at how quickly she had grown accustom to Hermione's company. The girl did not prattle on as some their age had a tendency to. When she did speak, Ginny found she was actually interested in what she had to say on a number of topics, and when she was not the one doing the talking Ginny was happy to notice Hermione seemed to be an active listener—paying attention when Ginny chattered on about her favorite subject, Quidditch.

"Really, it's abhorrent the way witches are banned from playing Quidditch," Ginny said passionately as they passed her self-proclaimed favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies. "You would think the Department of Magical Games and Sports would have evolved their archaic views by now."

"I agree wholeheartedly." Hermione smiled warmly. "It is ridiculous to hold the view a witch cannot hold their own among wizards in a match. They'd likely be even faster; being as how we are multi-taskers, after all."

Ginny nodded eagerly. "Harry had quick Seeker reflexes. But I daresay no one was as fast as Cassiel Nott. Cas played Keeper, I never did see any Quaffles get past him."

"And what position would you play, Gin?"

"I would play Seeker." Ginny stared wistfully at the brooms on display. "What point is there messing around with the Quaffle when you can get 150 points from catching the Snitch?"

"Good point."

"My brothers and I used to play, you know, a revised game more like Stitchstock since we did not have the players to play full on Quidditch. Bill plays dirty though; he'll transfigure a Chaser into a pull cat before you know it! You need to watch out for that one."

"What is your favorite team?"

"Holyhead Harpies, of course," Ginny answered promptly. "They are from Wales. That's the team I'd play for."

"Maybe you'll get the chance to someday."

"I highly doubt that," said Ginny spitefully. "They don't even let me play in the local matches."

Hermione raised a curious brow. "They have local matches here?"

"Yes mostly the old Hogwarts crew; Abraxas, Rabastan, Sirius, Phineas, Avery—I don't know if you've met him before—Peter, Fred, George, Ron, they are the only ones worth mentioning anyway, well and of course Harry-," Ginny stopped herself short before saying anything incriminating about her relationship with Harry. Not like all the regulars didn't know about their history, but still Ginny thought it was safer not to bring it up.

"Harry?" Hermione asked innocently. "You mentioned him before."

"Er, yes. We went to school with him. That was before he spoke out against the Minister. They say he is in hiding now, haven't heard from him since."

"Oh I see, that's too bad."

"Too bad." Ginny nodded in agreement.

"It is a pity. You should not be forced into hiding just because you've expressed your views on something, don't you think?"

"I suppose," Ginny said carefully, brown eyes scanning Hermione's face. She wondered how sincere she was about that. They continued on for a bit before a brightly painted sign caught her attention. "Look." She pointed to a colorful store with a large ice-cream cone on the top of it. "That's Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. They have a great many flavours to choose from, my favorite's the butterbeer."

"Let's try some—my treat," Hermione offered.

"Okay," Ginny agreed. She was not going to put up a fight about that.

The girls entered the store excitedly. Ginny was tempted to try a chocolate raspberry flavor with chopped nuts that she noticed but went with her usual butterbeer. Hermione opted for strawberries and cream.

"This is delicious," Hermione said after she paid the knuts to the cashier and her and Ginny headed to the alley once more.

"Yes," Ginny agreed. "Quite the treat."

"Where are we headed now, Gin?" Hermione questioned between satisfying licks of ice cream.

"For the best materials, you want to go to Madam Malkin's Fashion & Fabrics for All Occasions."

"My, that is a mouthful."

"It is, and she has just about everything there—Linen-drapers, Haberdashers, and Hosiers. We should definitely be able to find the fabrics we are looking for."

Excited at the prospect of shopping the afternoon away, the girls did not notice three figures approaching until they were directly in their path.

"Oh," Ginny said stopping abruptly as she came face to face with her childhood tormentors. Daphne and Pansy had been three years ahead of her at Hogwarts, but Olive was in Ginny's same year, both of them eighteen, having just graduated Hogwarts. Ginny would not allow herself to be intimidated now that she was an adult. "Ladies," she greeted cordially as she curtseyed. Hermione followed suit.

Daphne returned the greeting though only barely inclining her head, Pansy and Olive mimicking their leader. "Fancy meeting you two here," Daphne observed with only a bit of disdain coming through her perfect façade. As always, Daphne was dressed to kill, her face made up with costly creams, blushes, and shadows, likely boasting of every product Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions sold, Ginny thought snidely. She felt plain in comparison. At least she was in good company; Hermione was not donning a speck of makeup either.

"Ginny was gracious enough to show me around Diagon Alley," Hermione said conversationally. "I have only been here briefly with my mother."

"How odd," commented Pansy. "And when the Lestranges only live an Apparition away."

"Mother isn't one to indulge in shopping," Hermione said easily.

"Well I suppose that is what house elves are for," said Olive. "Only I much prefer to peruse myself."

"I am finding I quite it enjoy it as well," Hermione replied bestowing a smile not near as warm as the ones she had shared earlier with Ginny.

"I received your RSVP Mildred." Daphne's tone was confident and imperius. "I am grateful you will be able to attend my little event."

"Oh yes, about that." Hermione looked strangely pensive before she turned to face Ginny. "Have you received your invitation yet Gin?"

Ginny positively blanched at Hermione's impolite question, having to pull herself together before answering, "Um, no…"

"Hm," Hermione was thoughtful as she turned back towards Daphne. "Ginny hasn't got her invite yet Daphne, and the party is tomorrow."

Ginny had never seen Daphne look so uncomfortable and finally, Ginny caught on to what Hermione was up to. It was awe inspiring to her, that Hermione, the youngest of all the girls there at merely seventeen, could make everyone feel so uneasy. She was quite the confident one. Hermione simply looked at Daphne expectantly as she sputtered for words.

"Um, well, that is to say," Daphne faltered before she continued on rushed. "Her invitation must have simply got mixed up. Our house elf Ziggy is getting rather old." Daphne turned to address Ginny. "Ginevra, would you like to attend the ball tomorrow?"

Ginny glanced at Hermione for reassurance, Hermione was the picture of innocence, but Ginny noticed the mischievous look of triumph pass through her eyes. Steeling herself, Ginny answered Daphne with as much dignity as she could muster, "I suppose I may be able to squeeze that in my schedule."

"Right then." Daphne pressed her lips into a thin line looking awfully grim. "I suppose I must remind you that it is costume themed—strictly enforced."

"I hope you have the time to put something together by then." Pansy shot her a sickly sweet smile.

"I think she'll manage." Hermione never missed a beat as she stared down the intimidating girls.

"Um, well we do have some shopping to do." Daphne gave them an apologetic smile. "Until tomorrow then."

"Yes, see you then." Ginny inclined her head, mimicking Daphne's earlier motion. Score one for Hermione, she thought, surprised how the girl seemed the wiser out of the group.

Daphne, Pansy, and Olive made to pass Hermione and Ginny but at the last minute, Olive whirled around to face Ginny.

"You've got something, didn't you know?" Olive asked with mock concern. "Just there," she said pointing to Ginny's chin. Horrified, Ginny quickly used her sleeve to wipe the renegade ice cream off her face.

Turning to watch them leave, Ginny felt a hand come out and grab her arm firmly.

"Let's go Gin," Hermione said bestowing a look of understanding onto Ginny as she led them on in the same direction they were going in the first place.

Ginny followed along but shot Hermione an insolent look before speaking up. "I cannot believe you did that to me," Ginny accused only half serious. "You might have warned me."

"There was no time," Hermione said lightly. "Besides, now you are officially invited. Sometimes you just have to come up with things on the fly Gin."

"I suppose your right," Ginny conceded. "Ah here we are, _Madam Malkin's Fashion & Fabrics for All Occasions_, we are bound to find something usable here."

The two girls strode purposefully into the shop. Right away Madam Malkin came up to greet them. "Is there anything particular you girls are looking for?" She asked helpfully.

"Just browsing," Ginny replied sauntering up to some sparkling fabrics on display.

"Well, be sure to let me know if I can help with anything," Madam Malkin said cordially.

The girls nodded before turning their attention to the glittering material.

"This is lovely," Ginny said fingering the material longingly. "It would make an exquisite bodice, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Hermione granted. "All though, don't you think it's a bit much? Something more subtle may do the trick."

"Well we at least need a bit of this stuff," Ginny argued. "And look it comes in green, pink, and blue. What color do you like Hermione?"

"I am partial to the green myself," Hermione said eyeing the rich green color.

"Well I know Tonks would look smashing in pink and I favor blue personally." Ginny selected the materials and hovered them over to the counter top with her wand.

"Alright, now something for the skirt. Different swatches of material would be nice," Ginny explained.

Hermione and Ginny moseyed about the shop selecting different fabrics along the way. They chose silver and a shimmering pearl white chiffon to go along with the hues they had agreed on.

"Oh we need something for the wings," Ginny said stopping in her tracks.

"Perhaps a stiff tuille?" Hermione suggested.

"No that won't do," Ginny said fixing Hermione with a look of distaste. "We want them to look real. Like this organza here." Ginny fingered the firm material before directing it to join the other bolts. "Madam Malkin I believe we are ready to check out."

"Oh wonderful dears how much do you need?" Asked Madam Malkin.

Ginny instructed Madam Malkin on the yardage and amounts while Hermione asked for the totals to be debited to the Riddle accounts. Ginny was pleased to see the charm Hermione had cast on her bag came in handy to contain all their purchases, she would have to ask Hermione to teach that to her. The happy duo then proceeded to exit the store heading back to their awaiting carriage.

Once they arrived, the coachmen assisted them in climbing in.

"Well that was a productive shopping trip," Hermione observed.

"Yes very much so," agreed Ginny. "Will we head back to the Manor then?"

"I was hoping we could go to the Burrow actually," Hermione said biting her lip.

Ginny looked at the witch carefully. "What did Tom say when you told him we were coming?"

"Oh, I haven't told him in so many words yet…"

"Hermione!"

"Well," Hermione said shifting uncomfortably. "Timing is everything Ginny you know that." Ginny continued to glare at her. "Besides," Hermione added defensively. "You have an official invite now; it's not really up to him."

"I just hope you don't get yourself into trouble."

Hermione huffed at that indignantly. "Really, I think I am allowed some semblance of freedom, good-Merlin."

Ginny did not say anything to that and the rest of the carriage ride was fairly quiet until they reached Riddle Manor and apparated quickly to the Burrow. Then, the excitement picked up once again.

"Hello mum," Ginny greeted Molly as the girls made their way to Ginny's room.

"Oh hello Ginny," Molly sputtered when she saw Hermione. "Um, and Hermione, lovely to see you." She looked at Ginny searchingly.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said warmly. "Gin and I are just getting our outfits ready for the ball tomorrow."

"Ball? What ball?" Molly asked icily glaring at Ginny.

Hermione shot Ginny and accusatory look.

"Daphne has invited me to her Masquerade tomorrow," Ginny replied.

"Oh she has, has she? And who will be escorting you?"

"Well Charles of course."

"Yes, of course _Charles_ ," Molly said somewhat sarcastically.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione interrupted the tense mother daughter duo.

"Please call me Molly," Molly offered kindly.

"Molly," Hermione said smiling. "Gin tells me you are skilled at transfiguration, that you taught her everything she knows."

Molly preened under the compliment. "Well, yes I did get an O.W.L. in the subject," Molly looked contemplative before seeming to come to a decision. "Well, do let me know if you need help with anything."

Satisfied with Molly's approval, Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm and began pulling her up to her room. A little embarrassed by the simplicity of it, she turned to look resolutely at Hermione to see her assessment.

"So that's the Holyhead Harpies," Hermione said pointing at the moving poster on Ginny's wall.

Ginny let out a sigh of relief she did not know she was holding at Hermione's apparent approval. "Yep," she nodded. "The best team in all of Britain." Ginny eyed Hermione as she began pulling things out of her bag and casting a de-wrinkling spell on the materials.

"This can be used for sleeves," Ginny suggested pulling a fabric up against her.

"I doubt the Fae wear sleeves," Hermione pointed out.

"But Hermione, that's scandalous.

"No it's not," Hermione disagreed. "We want to be as historically accurate as possible right? Besides, do you think Daphne and her friends will be adhering to social rules of dress? No, they will most likely take this opportunity to push the boundaries of fashion, and so will we!" Hermione continued around Ginny's small room seeming in search of something but quickly becoming exasperated. "For Merlin-sake Gin, don't you not own any books? I think even Tom might have a book with faeries in it." She added playfully.

"Well if you want to be _historically accurate_ , I don't believe faery's wear clothes at all—or at least not much, but okay," Ginny laid out the green, blue, pink silk material. "So these will be for the bodice—the _sleeveless_ bodice." Ginny waved her wand over the fabrics as Hermione watched the transformation before her with keen interest. "I'll make them a little different in styles for the top, yours can be off the shoulder, Tonks can be halter, and mine can be crisscrossed in the back." Ginny hovered the glittery, silver, and pearl white fabric explaining, "We can use swatches of these for the skirt."

"You're making them too long," Hermione pointed out. "They should fall just to our knees."

"Alright," Ginny conceded though a bit skeptically. "To the knees then." The skirt attached itself seamlessly to the bodice. "Now for the wings," Ginny grabbed the different color organza waving her wand over them too. "They should have swirls of glitter, a bigger wing up top and a smaller one on the bottom, on each side like this." She transfigured the swirls of glitter into the organza.

Hermione looked excited. "Do you think Tonks will approve?"

"Sirius and I agreed we would tell her the day of, she can be quite the anxious little thing. He is bringing her over tomorrow and I am sure once we get her to change she will be susceptible to coming. Besides, she is always fine so long as Sirius is nearby." Ginny wondered absently at how easily it was to converse with Hermione anymore. Ginny supposed Hermione had proved today in her own way that she sought a genuine friendship with Ginny. "There," she added. "I put little straps on the wings; let's try them on so I can alter them accordingly."

The girls hurried to try on the outfits; Ginny's fit perfectly as she knew it would but hurried to adjust Hermione's quickly.

"They are beautiful," Hermione said softly, looking in Ginny's mirror.

"I agree," Molly said slipping in when they hadn't noticed. "I brought some cosmetics up with me for tomorrow, I will tell you the spells but you can use these." Molly gestured to tiny bottles in her hands, "This one will infuse your skin, sparkling it, this is glitter you can use by your eyes, and of course there is all the regular stuff too, creams, kohl, and blushes."

Ginny and Hermione looked at the cosmetics very foreign to the both of them, but eager to try out all the stops tomorrow.

"Ginny those straps on the wings will never do, it's too muggle for tomorrow's crowd. It needs a wow factor," Molly waved her wand muttering an incantation. Suddenly the wings took on a lifelike quality seaming themselves to where the girls dresses dipped low in the back. The wings moved of their own accord, suffused with magic. "That's much better. And you'll want to try this butterfly charm as well." Molly moved her wand just so and Ginny and Hermione turned to see little white butterflies hovering over their updues. "I suggest you wear your hair lose tomorrow though."

"Thanks Molly," Hermione said excitedly and turned to Ginny. "Meet me at the Manor tomorrow at six? These turned out so well I am excited to wear them."

"Alright Hermione," Ginny replied excitedly. "Thanks for taking me out today, it was fun." Hermione stepped behind the changing screen and hurried to don her dress again. Ginny made to walk her down the stairs and to the apparition point.

"See you tomorrow," Hermione leaned in to give Ginny a hug which she returned. Ginny watched her go, feeling a thrill run through her at the thought of the event tomorrow—truth be told, Ginny could hardly wait.

 **000**

Sitting down for a late lunch with his knights before they would need to dress for the evening's festivities, Tom recalled how easy things had been with Hermione the past couple of days since their talk, or rather since his warning. There was still that underlying tension that seemed a permanent state of being whenever she was concerned, but she had not done anything to spark his ire as Tom was beginning to expect from her. His political obligations put on hold for the weekend, Tom had a lot of time to think on things, perhaps too much time.

Yesterday had gone smoothly, with Hermione meeting with her mother like she did most mornings, and then the both of them going to shop while Tom worked in peace in his Potions Lab. She had come home that evening in time for dinner and it was an amicable affair. Afterwards they had taken to the study to read, Hermione curled by the fire deep in her book—Tom had never seen her so quiet, while Tom read in his favorite chair. She had bid him goodnight a bit later and a good morning the next day at breakfast.

Since Bellatrix did not come to visit that morning, Tom invited Hermione to attend him in the greenhouse as he worked to gather basic potion ingredients. She looked up slightly thrilled at the prospect and Tom suspected it was his own way of rewarding her for not causing trouble and heeding his advice. He had been so ready to punish her should she step one toe out of line, but now Tom found things quite tranquil and thought he could get used to this. They had worked peacefully side by side and Tom had to admit, she was a fast learner, not nearly as fast as himself but quick just the same.

"Mmmm," Hermione said coming to seat herself at the table. "What smells so divine?"

"It's the white soup milady," Leo informed her. "Veal, cream, and almonds."

"Thank you Leo," Hermione spooned a tentative bit of soup in her mouth and then took another spoonful eagerly.

"So," Hermione began conversationally turning to look towards Abraxas, Cas, and Rabastan. "Do you have dates tonight?"

Feeling compelled to answer Abraxas said, "I will be escorting my mother."

"I will select my date when I get there," Cas proclaimed haughtily. As usual, Rabastan did not speak unless directly spoken to.

"We will meet your parents and take the buggy to the Greengrass estate," Tom informed her. He saw alarm quickly pass through her eyes.

"Couldn't we simply apparate," she suggested.

"The buggy is the typical mode of transportation for these kind of events," Tom stated wondering why it mattered to her.

"Rabastan and I will go via broom, won't we Rab?" Cas said slapping the man on the back.

"Yes," agreed a startled Rabastan. "By broom."

Hermione looked pensieve and stayed quiet the rest of the meal. Tom was tempted to _leglimence_ her again but resisted the urge.

"Well," Hermione said getting up from her seat, the men quickly stood to follow suit, Hermione looked slightly startled but recovered. "I am going to get some reading in before I get ready," she said dismissing herself.

"Very well," Tom granted watching her go. He felt slightly perturbed he was unable to read her but her worried look and abrupt dismissal did not go unnoticed.

"Tom," Abraxas called uneasily a few minutes later.

"What is it Abraxis," Tom snapped irritably.

"It's my mother," he said determinedly. "She had dinner with Lady Hornby yesterday."

"And," Tom prompted impatiently.

"Well, Lady Hornby informed her that Olive saw Hermione in Diagon Alley earlier that day." Cas and Rabastan paid avid attention to Tom's reaction.

"What of it? I already knew she went with her mother to shop."

"Well that's just it Tom," Abraxas went on doggedly. "She was with the young Weasley girl."

Tom froze in his spot as his magic crackled dangerously around him; Abraxas winced at the oppressiveness of it. Was it possible Hermione had lied to him? Did she dare mean to make a fool out of him? Tom threw his chair back from the table as he got up to march towards Hermione not saying a word to his knights but he did hear Cas open his big mouth.

"Now you've done it," Cas told Abraxis. "The poor girl is in for it now."

Resolving to deal with Cas later, Tom headed towards the study where he found Hermione curled on the ground reading a book with her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Hermione recoiled when she sensed Tom's perilous magic surrounding her before she even sensed Tom himself.

"What is it Tom," she asked her voice slightly tremulous.

"I heard the most curios bit of information," Tom began lowly his hand clutching his wand concealed within his robes. "You were spotted with a Weasley yesterday? How can that be when you told me you were shopping with your mother?"

Hermione attempted to smile up at him which Tom found interesting given she had to feel the dark magic he was practically suffocating her with. "I never told you I was going with my mum," Hermione reminded him. "I simply said _we_ are going shopping for a dress. You're the one that made the assumption."

Tom pointed his wand at Hermione and she bit her lip, eyes widening. " _Crucio_ ," Tom said softly, it came out almost like a caress.

Hermione threw her head back as her chest arched up and she dropped the book she was reading, her mouth opened in a silent scream but nothing came out. Furrowing his eyebrows, Tom strengthened the curse pointing it at her longer. Could it be this was not Hermione's first time under the Cruciatis? Tom let the curse fly steadily at her until finally she gave in and started screaming. She may have been under it before, but she'd never felt the effects of _his_ curse. He did not yield until he saw the tears spring to her eyelids.

Crouching down beside her, Tom allowed himself to reach out a hand and caress her face, though now it was wrought with perspiration. Tom had found himself entranced watching Hermione writher under his curse; it gave him a thrill and awakened his senses. Sitting down beside her, Tom pulled Hermione's recumbent and limp form up onto his lap and began stroking her hair soothingly.

"There, there darling," he crooned. "You had to learn sometime didn't you? I do not tolerate disobedience among my own Hermione."

Tom was surprised to see Hermione open her eyes and defiance clear in her piercing gaze. Tom tried to quell the sensations he was feeling being in this close proximity with her, it was like the morning in the greenhouse, except heightened tenfold and much more intimate. She did not have the strength to lift her head and therefore stayed flaccidly in his lap but opened her mouth to speak just the same.

"You are positively evil," she accused.

Amused, Tom made to stroke her cheek surprised by his own reaction. "Oh Hermione," he began as if he were speaking to a child. "There is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at this declaration. They stayed like that for a few minutes, in their awkward embrace, Hermione at Tom's mercy. Then finally, Hermione made to get up on shaky feet. Tom was astounded to see Hermione already recovered enough to stand upright. She glared at him indignantly.

"Hokey," she called and with a pop the house elf appeared beside her and Hermione grabbed her head for purchase. "Please take me for a bath; I must ready myself for the ball."

"Right away Mistress," Hokey called.

"Oh and Tom," Hermione said voice sickly sweet though still slightly tremulous as she gave an involuntary twitch. "You may want to enchant the buggy to increase in size—Ginny, Charles, Sirius, and Tonks will be here at six. I've already invited them so you cannot uninvite them."

Tom felt the fury rise in him once more but he was too flabbergasted to act on it and before he could come to his senses Hokey apparated Hermione away from his reach. Tom stayed there on the floor for some time after, until finally his knights made their way tentatively into the room. Tom was jolted into action, noticing for the first time his precarious position on the ground.

"Tom," Abraxis called questioningly.

"Are we dismissed to get ready for tonight?" Cas asked carefully.

"Yes, yes, go," Tom said waving them away as he dusted himself off and made to stand.

Cas was right, it was time to get ready. Slowly, Tom went through the motions attempting to ready himself for the evening. How would Hermione treat him in public now that he had punished her so? He had not gotten a chance to ensure she knew what he expected from her, but she most assuredly would not humiliate him in public again. Tom selected a black suit and dark green robes, quickly donning it, he checked himself in the mirror. He charmed a green, leafy wreath to appear around his head remembering that Hermione was going as something woodland. Satisfied with his impeccable appearance, Tom began to make his way to the foyer to greet his unwelcome guests.

Silently seething at the turn of events this afternoon, Tom wondered at Hermione's knack for turning things in her favor. Really, Tom was the one injusticed this day; Hermione may not have lied to him but she certainly deceived him. Brooding in the corner of the foyer, Tom decided to indulge in some firewhisky while he waited. He had expected Hermione to be down already; it was nearly a quarter to six.

Rodolphus and Bellatrix were the first to arrive and he promptly shared another drink with Rodolphus.

"Where is Mildy?" Bellatrix asked directly.

"Oh she is still getting ready," Tom explained. "You know how women are."

Yet he was beginning to worry, especially when he noticed Bellatrix accusatory stare. It was soon six and the other four arrived punctually.

Bellatrix looked aghast and quickly looked over to Tom for answers.

"Sirius, Charles, Nymphadora, Ginevra," he greeted then turned to face Bellatrix. "Your daughter saw fit to add to our numbers tonight, isn't that nice of her?"

Bellatrix turned white at this knowledge. Vaguely he noticed the fluttering dresses around him but he could hardly focus on anything with his thoughts running about as he wondered if Hermione would come down stairs in a fit, flinging herself in her odd mother's arms—that would be quite the spectacle and an embarrassment for him.

"Charles, Sirius," Rodolphus called merrily the liquor already getting to him. "Come join Tom and me for another drink." Charles and Sirius nodded stiffly as they made to acquiesce his request.

Pouring a few more glasses for his guests, Tom noticed the witches attempting to make small talk while Rodolphus carried on easily with Tom's school day rival Sirius.

"How are things at the Black residence my boy?" Rodolphus asked jovially. "I daresay we used to spend a lot more time there, Bella and I."

"I am sure things are much the same," Sirius commented drily. "Though I wouldn't know, I do not spend very much time there."

"He is a wonderer this one," Charles added. "Going to work with Bill in Albania for a good bit."

"Yes that's right," agreed Sirius.

"And what does Bill do?" Rodolphus asked.

Tom answered for them, "He works with dragons doesn't he?"

Rodolphus looked impressed at this revelation. "Dragons huh? Good business that is."

Tuning the other three wizards out, Tom let the amber liquid swish around his cup as he watched it absent mindedly before draining it in one gulp. Only five minutes had passed, yet it felt like hours.

"Ginevra," he called.

"Yes Tom?" She said turning to face him. Tom was momentarily shocked by the witches blue outfit, apparently she was a faery as well, with a matching set of wings, it was actually showing quite a bit more skin then Tom was used to seeing on ladies. Tom shook the feeling aside.

"Would you mind terribly checking on Hermione?" Tom asked with feigned concern. "Perhaps she needs help with something."

"I can help Mildy just fine," Bellatrix said stepping in and Tom noticed her Gothic costume for the first time, she was a vampire or something of the sort—though not so much different from her every day appearance. "She is my daughter after all," Bellatrix added rather haughtily, though Tom detected a semblance of fear.

"I don't need any help," Hermione startled them all as she entered the foyer but no one was nearly as startled as Tom, stunned actually. "Hello Tom," Hermione greeted fixing him with a piercing gaze.

Tom had to catch his breath as his eyes traveled up and down Hermione's form then back up again. She was wearing green; his favorite shade actually next to black, her skirt was interspersed with sparkling green and silver pieces falling just below her knees. Even her toes glittered in sparkling silver sandals. Her dress tightened at the waist and further up hugging her curves in all the right places as one strap went up across her right shoulder and the left remained distractingly bear. Hermione had a matching set of wings also green similar to Ginevra's that moved life-like on their own accord. Her hair lay lose passed her glimmering shoulders boasting a slight curl, it looking soft to the touch and Tom resisted the urge to reach out and touch it. Little, pale butterflies hovered above her mane and it made her look ethereal. But it was her face that truly grasped his attention, her eyes popped under the aid of the frosty shadow she was wearing and thin liner outlined her eyes. A splatter of glitter gleamed from just outside her eyes to her cheeks and those orbs seemed to pierce right through him in a decidedly challenging sort of way.

"Hermione," he said thickly. She smiled at him brightly as she glided through the room.

"Mother," she gave her mum a quick hug. "I hope I didn't keep you all waiting, I seemed to have dozed in the bath."

"What is that you're wearing Mildy dear," Bellatrix commented distastefully. "Couldn't you go for something a bit darker or did you intend to light up the night's sky?"

Hermione ignored her complaining moving on to embrace Ginny and Tonks.

"You both look lovely," Hermione praised. "Thank you so much for coming."

"Ah I see now," Bellatrix noted snarkily. "You lot planned to match didn't you?"

"It's rather fetching," Rodolphus said as him, Sirius, and Charles made their way back to the group. "Quite clever even."

"Brilliant I'd say," Charles said coming up next to Ginny.

"Why thank you Charles," Ginny curtseyed playfully.

"I daresay we will be escorting the most lovely witches to the Masquerade, Riddle," Sirius said coming to stand next to Nymphadora.

"Right you are Black," Tom agreed never taking his eyes off Hermione.

Hermione sauntered up confidently to Tom's side, placing a hand on his arm and looking up at him serenely, all trace of bitterness gone from her striking features.

"Are you ready to go Tom?" She asked evenly.

Tom had to mentally shake himself before replying as he schooled his features, "Of course, it is high time we left."

"You'll have to cast a warming charm Tom," Hermione pointed out bossily. "I am afraid our attire will not do much against the cold."

"No I suppose it won't," Tom conceded gruffly. "Come, Hermione."

Tom watched as Hermione stepped a little ahead of him to join the girls, striding purposefully towards the carriage, unable to take his eyes off her exquisite form. He noticed her twitch suddenly which could only be evidence of the after effects of his cruciatis. Tom's eyes darkened as he watched captivated by the witch, never before had he felt so polarized to someone. One thing was sure, Hermione had his undivided attention and she would be much tougher to break than he'd ever imagined.

 **000**


	9. Chapter 9: An Enchanted Affair

**A/N: Well...I hope you guys like this chapter, it got a bit lengthy and there is a bit of a lemon in it so please be warned if that's not your cup of tea. I did not update as quickly as I got caught up writing a little fic for Tomione Kink Meme's New Years challenge, check it out if you like, it's also Victorian era. I also want to write a little Dramione for dhrfavorites prompt exchange this month but I'll try to update this one in a timely manner!**

 **There were a lot of things I liked about this chapter so I made an aesthetic for it. Its posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3 under my accounts if you'd like to see it. They are listed on my profile!**

 **Thanks to all the reviewers and those that followed and favorited last chapter. I hope this one doesn't disappoint? Let me know what you think if you like! C:**

 **000**

Folding her hands in her lap, Hermione surveyed the witches and wizards around her. She was sidled up closely next to Tom in the modified coach he had cast a space-increasing charm on earlier. Ginny was sitting next to Charles. Next to him was a confident Sirius whom Tonks seemed to be clutching onto for dear life. Directly across sat Tom and Hermione who were sitting next to a bored Rodolphus and a talkative Bellatrix, completely at ease with their unexpected guests.

"Yes Sirius, and I do understand your reservations with the killing curse," Bellatrix was saying. "But life in Azkaban for casting an _imperius_ or _cruciatis_? It's a little much I'd say. Surely the Minister had the right of it when he revoked that silly law."

"I don't know _auntie_ ," Sirius said easily and Bellatrix cringed slightly at the mention of their relation. "Under the _Imperius_ a witch or wizard can be forced to do many things, illegal things, that the witch or wizard controlling them wishes for them to do, don't you think it highly unethical?"

"Bah," Bellatrix said dismissively. "If a wizard or witch is weak enough to succumb to the _imperius_ , they deserve to be controlled."

"And what of the torture curse?" Ginny asked brazenly and Hermione could tell her ire was peaked. "When could it possibly be considered _alright_ to put someone under the _Cruciatis_?"

"I can think of many such occasions," Bellatrix said calmly. "Besides, the _Cruciatis_ gives you character." Hermione cringed inwardly at that, she still felt the effects of Tom's torture curse on her—a decidedly familiar torture curse and Hermione could not place why. "Frankly, some people can do with a bit more character." Bellatrix looked pointedly at Tonks who glared insolently back at her.

Rodolphus and Sirius went on to talk about something more platonic—goblin rights in the wizarding world or some such topic, Hermione could not bring herself to focus on it, too consumed in her own tumultuous thoughts.

She had laid in the bath for hours, until the soothing hot waters had cooled and the worse of her shakes had subsided. She was taken by surprise at first, never truly expecting Tom to be capable of such cruelty. She found there was much about her husband she did not know and this initially caused fear to rule her thoughts where he was concerned, until she quickly adapted to her unfortunate circumstances. Had she not spent a good chunk of her life under the _cruciatis_? Lord Voldemort's _cruciatis_ to be specific. If she could survive that, she could survive anything. Arguably Lord Voldemort wielded the strongest torture curse in the wizarding world, Hermione wagered it was far more potent a curse than Grindelwald's, being as Lord Voldemort had three hundred plus years to perfect it. Yet, Tom's curse had felt far stronger than she would have guessed him capable of, much stronger than Draco's and though not as strong as Voldemort's, eerily similar.

It was an unfortunate truth to come to, but once Hermione came to accept it she could not help finding a way to adapt it. A survivor of a post-apocalyptic wizarding world, how could a simple torture curse bring her down? Tom had another thing coming if he thought he could oppress her with this. Hermione knew he could not harm her thanks to the _mea sempiternum_ , so really he did not have much to threaten her with, but Hermione had many ideas of how she could torment him.

Evaluating him silently, Tom noticed Hermione's critique of him and pulled his gaze away from Rodolphus and Sirius to meet hers. His features were unreadable as always, but the intensity was ever-present in his eyes. Hermione could tell she put him off-kilter and relished in this small power over him. She smiled mischievously up at him even as she squeezed the arm she was clutching. A muscle twitched in Tom's jaw as he reluctantly pulled his eyes from her and endeavored to answer a question that had been posed to him by Sirius. Hermione continued rubbing circles with her fingertips on his exposed wrist finding it soothing to be teasingly playful. She hoped she got the chance to challenge him to a duel this night, how she'd love the chance to throw curses his way.

Hermione thought she must be a glutton for punishment, that she could hold any desire for a man that meant her harm? She really should resist the magnetic pull she had to him; he had just tortured her for Merlin-sake! For her own well-being it was best not get pulled in by those dark, depthless eyes that captivated her so. Hermione knew she could not lose her heart in this madness; her heart was the one thing she had kept safe-guarded during all her traumas. She needed to remain on top—she could not allow Tom to assert control over her less she become weak. No, Hermione was certain she knew Tom's limitations when it came to her and could make sure she stayed ahead of the game; her sanity depended on it.

"We're here," Bellatrix announced as the coach came to a stop in front of Greengrass Manor. The girls made to get up in a flurry of swishing skirts and glittering wings as the men made way for them graciously.

The group made their way to the entry hall and Hermione had to catch her breath when she caught sight of the magically altered room. It looked as if they entered an enchanted forest with columns that looked ancient lining the area. Vines curled up around the columns and flowers of many glittering colors dotted the vines. Little shiny lights hovered around them. The floor was soft underneath Hermione's sandals, and she could easily envision herself dancing on the calm, forest ground. At the end of the entry, the room opened up into a ball room that looked like a meadow surrounded by tall trees where the walls should be. Looking up, the ceiling was charmed to take on the guise of a clear night's sky. There was a stream running through where the balcony was with a small bridge going over it along one edge. Along the other edge was a long stone hedge lined with all sorts of savory smelling food and desserts. Hermione had to remember to pick her jaw up off the floor as the others in her group seemed to expect this degree of enchantment. She looked Tom's way and noticed the smirk he fixed her with.

"You are impressed I take it?" Tom asked.

"It's amazing," Hermione said with unabashed awe. "I hadn't expected it to be this fantastical."

"The Greengrasses do go a bit overboard," Bellatrix explained. "Come Roddy, let's check out the refreshments." She sauntered over to stone table with Rodolphus in tow.

"I suppose we fit right in to the theme," Ginny pointed out hooking her arm to Hermione's.

"It's like a Hogwarts reunion," observed Sirius. "I see a bunch of our old school chums."

"Look Tonks," Ginny said pointing. "There's your friend Luna."

"Oh I didn't know she'd be here," Tonks exclaimed. "Come Sirius let's go say hi."

"Okay cuz but then you owe me a dance," Sirius bargained.

"Only if you have time for me between dancing with Daphne," Tonks teased.

Ginny chuckled at this, then turned to face Tom, Hermione, and Charles.

"Look Tom," Ginny noted. "There is Abraxas, Cas, and Rabastan over there by Daphne and her friends."

Hermione looked that way and saw Daphne scantily dressed as an Egyptian princess. Her normally long dark hair was cropped short, the same as her top and golden glittery beads adorned it. Next to her Pansy was decked out as a Greek goddess looking ever the part in her soft pink gown, exposing much of her neckline. Her light brown hair was arranged in waves down her shoulders. To her left, Millicent looked like an Arabian sorceress, complete with a blue crop top and matching trousers. Her blond hair pinned intricately held by a golden cuff. All three girls were dazzling and Tom's cronies hovered around the pretty witches.

"We better go so hello," Hermione said pulling Ginny with her, Charles and Tom trailing behind.

"Now aren't you glad we went all out?" Ginny whispered conspiratorially. Hermione merely nodded.

Daphne was the first to notice the group approaching. She saw Hermione and Ginny first and Hermione could register surprise on her features briefly before Daphne schooled her features. Then her gaze lingered on Tom and Hermione tried to suppress a flicker of possessiveness from surfacing as she noted the brief look of longing pass through Daphne's eyes. Where had that bit of jealousy come from?

"Daphne," Hermione greeted. "This is quite lovely."

"Stunning," Tom said giving the witch a chaste kiss on the hand. "You outdid yourself."

"You're both too kind," Daphne said sweetly batting her eyelashes and looking down as Tom moved on to greet the other witches.

"You do remember Charlie?" Tom said to the witches as well as the wizards. Charles flinched at the nickname. "He was at the wedding, a cousin of the Weasleys."

"I think I remember seeing you there," Pansy said half-heartedly.

"I am so glad you made it," Daphne told Ginny. "So last notice and all. Yet you seemed to pull together an outfit and record time."

"Competent witches do not need so very long to come up with a decent outfit," Ginny pointed out.

"Yes and what an outfit it is," Pansy crooned latching on to Abraxas. "Why it's right out of a muggle fairytale."

Ginny bristled at the insult.

"I quite like it," Cas said jumping in. "I imagine if the _fae_ were real this is the form they would take."

"Well if you like that sort of thing," Daphne trailed off dismissively.

"And your outfit, Pansy, Daphne, Milly," Ginny began. "Why it's positively _daring_. What a bold choice ladies."

Daphne and Pansy shot daggers at Ginny not even bothering to cover their annoyance.

"I rather like it," Hermione said playing devil's advocate. "Cleopatra, Aphordite, and Kaila. Your interpretations are lovely." Hermione shot Ginny a warning look wishing she did not wear her feelings on her sleeve so.

"Ginny," Charles called. "Wouldn't you like to join me on the dance floor?"

"Good idea Chuckie," Tom commented as he drank deeply from a Champaign glass he had procured. "We will join you and Ginevra shortly."

"Fine," Ginny conceded. "Let's get the dancing out of the way now so we don't miss the _dueling festivities_ later." Ginny looked pointedly at Daphne before making her way to the dance floor, rather forest ground, with Charles in tow.

"Are you coming to the Quidditch pitch Sunday?" Abraxas asked Pansy. "All of us will be there."

"You know I wouldn't miss it," Pansy replied smiling. "Reminds me of our old Hogwarts days."

"I can't believe you lot still play," Tom quipped. "As if there are not more important things to do."

"It keeps us nice and trim," Cas said jovially clapping his hand over Rabastan's shoulder. "Right Rab?"

"Yes that's right," Agreed Rabastan. "And the ladies like a cut figure." The wizards snickered.

"Speaking of ladies," Hermione jumped in. "Have you invited Ginny?"

"To join the spectators?" Abraxas asked confused.

"No," Hermione confirmed. "To play along with you, of course. Or are you afraid she would show you all up?"

Cas guffawed at that. Pansy and Daphne looked at her as if she were daft. Abraxas did not dignify her with an answer. Tom ignored her apparent slip-up.

"Would you like some Champaign?" Tom asked handing Hermione a glass.

"Yes thanks very much," Hermione said grabbing the crystal gratefully and trying again. "Daphne, how did you bewitch the ceiling so? It's quite stunning."

"My mother was gifted in transfiguration enchantments," Daphne answered stiffly. "She passed along the knowledge."

"They had that mudblood teaching transfiguration in those days," Abraxas commented. "My mother told me." Daphne bristled at the mention of this.

"Some Harmony Abbott or something or other," Cas added. "Taught in my mum's school days too."

"A Mudblood teaching?" Rabastan said disgusted. "What a joke." Rabastan looked to Tom for clarification.

Hermione could feel her eye twitching; she was getting irritated again and fancied she would have an over-reaction like Ginny soon.

"Mudbloods are only capable of rudimentary magic," Tom agreed. "Similar to hags or trolls-, ow!" Tom broke off looking at Hermione angrily.

"Oh sorry about that Tom," Hermione said relishing in the fact that Tom's carefully erected façade had tumbled but for a moment. "I'm not sure what came over me."

The rest of the witches and wizards fixed Hermione with weary looks reserved for times when they suspected her of madness. Daphne gave Tom a look of pity. Hermione had to suppress a chuckle.

"Pansy," Abraxas said breaking the awkward silence. "Would you join me for a dance?"

"I'd love to," Pansy said happily.

"Milly?" Rabastan asked tentatively. Millicent nodded shyly and went with Rabastan who was walking taller than Hermione had seen him hold himself before.

"I suppose I can entertain you, Daphne, until Sirius grows tired of his partner," Cas teased.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Alright Cas, I suppose you'll do for now."

Tom and Hermione watched the departing witches and wizards.

Whirling on Hermione, Tom started in on her angrily, "Can you try to hide your thinly veiled disgust of pureblood beliefs, at least when we are out in public, at a Pureblood function?"

Hermione met Tom's accusatory glare easily, "Can you try to conceal your prejudiced views of Muggleborns, at least while you're in my presence? I do not believe I can abide by such archaic views."

"You'd better learn how to abide by it," Tom threatened and for once his impassive face showed flickers of the rage Hermione was certain he was always hiding. "Or you'll spend the duration of this marriage locked inside Riddle Manor and not rewarded by going to functions like these."

"You'd better learn to accept my beliefs," Hermione shot back, uncaring of how she was riling up her husband. "Or you will simply have to get used to your arms being pinched and bruised on a constant basis."

Tom stared daggers at her, but Hermione only chuckled in response. Now that Tom had already put her under the _Cruciatus_ , there was not really much he could do further, in her opinion.

"Now come Tom," Hermione said clutching Tom's dress robes. "I am far too dressed up to be the only witch not on the dance floor."

Tom followed reluctantly behind the witch, staring darkly at the back of her head. Anyone with a miniscule amount of intellect would sense the danger, but Hermione was playing with fire and she _relished it_. He deserved that and much more for having the audacity to torture her that morning.

Under the light of the charmed night sky, Hermione's sparkling green get up seemed to glitter all the more. Tom seemed slightly preoccupied by it.

"What dance is this?" She whispered. "How do I place my hands?" But Tom did not pay her any mind seemingly captivated by her face. "Tom!" Hermione whispered sharply shaking him roughly by the shoulders.

"Oh I am sorry what was that?" Tom asked snidely. "I think I was distracted by the tiny _moths_ hovering above your hair. How am I to kiss you with those monstrosities in the way?"

"To kiss me?" Hermione repeated and Tom rolled his eyes at her look of appall. "And why in Merlin's name would I allow you to kiss me? Tell me, do you think unforgivables are some kind of aphrodisiac for me?"

"You say it plural," Tom said impudently guiding her easily in the complex foot movements. "I only cast the one; you do like to over react so."

"Oh that's right," Hermione said in mock thoughtfulness. "Well let's see, you can't really _Avada_ me being as," she held up her ring finger so he could see the patterned tattoo ring on her finger. "You've bound us essentially securing my safety. Well I suppose you could always _Imperio_ me; then at least I could be the perfect little puppet you so crave." Hermione met his stare brazenly. "Is that what you desire Tom?"

"What? You know nothing of my desires," Tom said his voice velvety.

"For me to be your mindless slave?" Hermione said egging him on.

"Obviously I do not want that."

"No," she agreed. "Yet you want me to conform to your views."

"What's wrong with that?" He dead-panned. Tom dipped her suddenly then in between their fluid movements on the dance floor. Hermione yelped and clutched on to his shoulders tightly. His face was close to hers before he tilted her back up again. "Alluring witch," he accused. "Why must you be so difficult?"

Hermione felt herself being drawn to Tom once more and was finding it difficult to stay grounded. She longed to let her hands travel down the curve of his chest or even up to his silky, dark tresses. She had the urge to twine her fingers there and found her wand hand subconsciously climbing up his neck. "I don't know Tom," she said noticing her voice had dropped low and even sounded a bit seductive. "Perhaps you've met your match?"

Tom's pupils had dilated and his eyes were focusing on her lips. She had the silly desire to lick them under his scrutiny, and did so, Tom's eyes became hooded. He spun her suddenly and when she came back to him, he held her close, every soft curve of hers molding to the hard contours of his body.

Hermione thought he may kiss her again and realized she had stopped breathing. "I doubt that very seriously," Tom challenged, essentially breaking the spell.

Hermione pushed him away forcefully. "You are not a gentlemen nor are you chivalrous," she declared hotly.

"You already knew that," Tom said smirking.

Hermione made to storm away from him, not even looking where she was going as she endeavored to find more Champaign less she hex Tom right there on the dance floor. Making her way through the dancers, she ran smack dab into Grindelwald himself.

 **000**

"Look Harry," Ginny whispered. "I told you it would only be a matter of time before those two danced together."

Harry spotted the duo that was Sirius and Daphne dancing amorously in the enchanted ballroom, the two only seemed to have eyes for each other.

"It's like good is attracted to evil," Ginny mused sipping her Champaign.

Harry had to nod his agreement. "But where is Tonks then?" Harry asked concerned drinking deeply from his brandy.

"Look over there," Ginny motioned to where Tonks and Cas were dancing carefree under the charmed starlight. "Looks like she is in good enough hands."

"Mingling with the enemy," Harry said in disapproval, his annoyance clear. "The both of them are."

Ginny only chortled at that. "What do you think of Riddle and Hermione?" She asked changing the subject. "They seem oddly suited for each other."

"Yes but they have completely different views from what you've told me," Harry pointed out. "How can they possibly _ever work_?"

"I don't know," Ginny said non-committal. "They say love conquers all."

"Maybe so," Harry granted. "But I swear if Riddle calls me Chuckie again I will challenge him to a duel, to the death."

"You may get to duel him," Ginny said soothingly. "But not to the death, I think those are against the rules here at this party, at least now-a-days."

Harry only shrugged impertinently.

"But who would you rather duel, Riddle or Grindelwald?"

"I could duel neither for fun," Harry stated in all seriousness. "When we duel, one of us will not be coming out of it alive."

"Well," I think I can be a bit more generous when I challenge Daphne," Ginny granted. "Perhaps I'll only mar her perfect face."

"I don't think it's such a good idea," Harry warned.

"Oh no _Chuckie_ ," Ginny said as she began dragging Harry over to the balcony where the dueling challenges were already starting. "That girl has it coming to her."

 **000**

Gellert Grindelwald had been talking with Lord Greengrass the majority of the night, the two of them making plans for a much later occasion. Gellert watched Daphne dancing with the blood traitor Sirius; he was hardly able to conceal his disgust at the sight of them. What was more, perfect pureblood Daphne seemed to be enjoying the company of that criminal. He sneered at the thought.

Gellert would be happy when all the festivities were over and done with. There was much to do before the wizarding world would be able to come out completely to the muggles. First they needed to secure all magical communities to their side—at least the important ones. The giants could be troublesome, but Gellert would delegate that task to Tom and his minions. If they succeeded in securing them that would be a great addition to Grindelwald's cause. If the giants crushed Riddle and his men—all the better. Grindelwald wasn't ready to challenge Tom who seemed for all intents and purposes to be loyal to his regime; but he could set him on dangerous tasks and missions again and again, until one day—he'd be doomed to fail.

Interrupted from his silent musings, Grindelwald noticed Hermione heading straight towards him, eyes stormy and seemingly unaware of her surroundings.

"Ah Mildred," Grindelwald greeted. "Where are you off to in such a hurry? I hope marital bliss has not taken an abrupt end already."

"Of course not," Hermione snapped before catching herself. "That is to say, things are going well. Er Tom, where's Tom?" She looked around flustered.

"Right here love," Tom said coming up to Hermione's side and grabbing her hand in his.

Hermione looked slightly relieved. She stepped closer to Tom before resting her hand on his arm.

"I was just telling the Minister how wonderful it is being newlyweds," She explained.

"I couldn't agree more," Tom confirmed and perhaps it would have been enough to convince any other witch or wizard but Gellert was not so easily persuaded. It gave him a perverse sense of pleasure to see Tom having trouble with his spitfire of a wife; Gellert knew he would have much better luck when the time came for him to choose his own.

"I was just going to suggest we go outside on the balcony and watch the dueling," Gellert suggested. "Won't you two join me, Tom, Mildred?"

"It's Hermione Minister," Hermione corrected. "And of course we would love to join you. Tom and I were just about to enter the challenge."

Tom stiffened at this announcement. "Hermione, darling," Tom began carefully. "Do you think that's such a good idea?"

"Why of course," Hermione leveled. "It's all for sport, isn't it?"

"Yes," agreed Gellert. "All for sport, a good idea for you both to join."

Tom nodded his consent but Gellert did not miss the muscle twitching by his eye.

"Come, Tom," Hermione called to her husband. "Let's see if my hexing is really as terrible as you say." To a casual observer, it would look like Hermione was merely teasing Tom good-naturedly, but Gellert detected the blatant challenge in her eyes.

 **000**

Inwardly seething as he watched Ginevra and Daphne duel, Tom impatiently waited his turn while Hermione clutched contently on to his arm. Tom would love nothing more than to hex the blasted witch to oblivion but doing so in front of the ever critical Minister and all of Wizarding Britain was not Tom's ideal choice of when to do it.

The sound of applause startled Tom out of his silent thoughts. Ginevra had successfully landed a pimple-jinx onto a currently enraged Daphne after both girls had spent the last five minutes effectively dodging, blocking or shielding the other's spell. Tom thought the girls had far too much invested emotionally into this duel than to be fighting each other, similarly to how his duel would go with Hermione. There was a palpable spark between him and Hermione and Tom knew that if they dueled, their passion would only be ignited as before.

Hermione caught Tom's attention looking up at him, "I've never seen a jinx that could turn one's hair color blue."

"Now we have a blue-haired Cleopatra," Tom said drily.

"And a fairy with an abnormally large nose," Hermione snickered.

In the end, the duel was called as a tie as neither witch was able to knock the other out and they matched each other blow for blow before the time limit was up.

Sirius came up to Daphne snaking his arm around her waist. "I for one think you did wonderfully," Sirius said attempting to kiss her cheek. Daphne swatted him away easily in apparent irritation. Ginny glared at Sirius as she came up to the group.

"You did well too Gin," Sirius placated.

"Whatever Sirius," Ginny waved him off. "Where is Charles?"

"To the loo I think," Sirius replied. Ginny made to stand on the sidelines next to Bellatrix to watch Tom and Hermione's duel.

"Looks like we are up," Hermione said pulling her wand from her _fae_ inspired dress. Heading to the cleared area on the balcony, she took a dueling stance and Tom made to follow suit.

Bowing to his challenger, Tom let Hermione make the first move. She did not disappoint as she cast several strong stinging hexes his way. Tom blocked the first two, then cast a _salvio hexia_ for the next one.

He quickly returned the stinging hexes but Hermione blocked them rather effectively before casting her own shield. Tom had to remind himself of the observers nearby as he resisted the urge to use dark magic. That would not make him look very chivalrous if he resorted to what he did best.

 _Flippendo_ , he cast non-verbally having seen Hermione's shield deteriorate thanks to his third stinging hex. Hermione made to block it but was not quick enough and went flying backwards, her wings flipping as she tumbled. Tom felt a surge of triumph as he watched her land precariously on her bum. When Hermione regained her balance, her eyes were filled with rage.

" _Avis_ ," she shouted strongly and a flock of small birdies went flying towards Tom's face. Confused and not expecting that particular curse he brought his hands up to block their attack before impatiently disappearing them altogether. He cast a tickling jinx at her and had to suppress a laugh when it hit home causing the girl to erupt in a fit of giggles and all but roll on the floor.

"Mildy," Bellatrix hollered from the sidelines. "Remember your lessons!"

Hermione cast the counter-curse in between giggles and got up with a new determination. Suddenly she began casting silently so that Tom did not know what she was coming. He cast a _protego_ which absorbed most of it, but when a dark hex made it through his shield causing him to dodge out of the way, he began striking on the offensive as well.

Soon, Hermione and Tom were squaring off, matching each other move for move. They looked like coordinated dancers as they cast spell after spell at one another, both of them neglecting to verbalize them. Tom could tell Hermione was letting instinct take over and felt slightly proud to see she was a natural dueler.

Every once in a while, a hex would hit home on Hermione, causing blood to gush from her leg or arm, but Hermione was not able to land any cuts on Tom, he was too quick and powerful. Exasperated, Hermione used her wand to pull a vine from a nearby column and controlling it magically; she pulled it taut and began snapping it towards Tom like a whip. Tom noticed the snapping vine getting too close for comfort as he had to dodge out of its way while coming up with a solution around it and he winced when it finally made contact with him, a welt popping up on his face. Hermione smiled sadistically as finally something hit home. Seeing red, Tom threw a dark curse at her of his own making.

" _Protego Horribilis_ ," she yelled just in time to block the dark curse.

Tom smiled as he had put Hermione on the defense and made quick work of throwing his next curse at her.

" _Echinacea_ ," Tom said silkily, watching avidly as his dark glittery curse shot straight towards her.

Hermione's eyes flared to life immediately becoming hooded as the effects of Tom's aphrodisiac curse hit her squarely in the abdomen. Hermione clamped her legs together, a small whimper escaping her that instantly called to Tom, immediately beginning to harden. Using his wand, he enchanted the forgotten vine to fly towards Hermione, twining itself tightly around her legs then up to the rest of her body.

" _Expulso_!" She yelled in anger before her arms became too constricted to form wand movements. Tom hurried to cast a strong shield to avoid her explosion spell and had to chuckle at her apparent ire.

Now completely at his mercy, he muttered, " _Levicorpus_." He watched contently as Hermione flipped up into the air, still confined by the vines. Hermione tried to break free of the vines and her anger was palpable.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," Tom said essentially bringing the duel to an end. Her wand flew to Tom's outstretched hand and Tom watched smugly as Hermione writhed in her bindings. He knew full well the relief she longed for. Using his wand, he brought her down to the floor. The crowd not on the dance floor who were watching clapped as the duel was called in Tom's favor. Tom was about to end Hermione's embarrassing situation amid the applause when all the sudden, he noticed the vine glowing red before snapping quickly and coiling just as fast onto the ground.

After regaining her footing, Hermione yelled, " _Stupefy_!"

Tom, too befuddled by why Hermione would try to cast without a wand, was not prepared for the power of her spell which hit him squarely in the chest and caused him to forcefully tumble backwards into a column.

Feeling slightly peeved and highly alarmed, Tom made to get up quickly heading over to Hermione who was getting a new round of applause. Ginevra and Bellatrix made it to her first and he saw the same alarm mirrored in their eyes. It was not normal for a witch or wizard to possess the ability to cast wandlessly.

"Uh, well," Cygnus Greengrass, Daphne's cousin was saying. "We never had someone land a blow, after _Expelliarmus_ , so I'm not sure-."

"It's alright," Hermione was saying apparently coming down from her fight mode. "I didn't play fair; I've been practicing wandless _Stupefys_ lately but Tom won fair and square."

"Still a good fight," Tom said through clenched teeth. Hermione eyed him wearily, it seemed she was coming back to herself yet there was still heat in her eyes. "Let's go over to the ledge while I stave off some of those cuts that are bleeding."

"Oh I can take care of that," Bellatrix offered at the same time Ginevra said, "We can help if you'd rather take a break Tom."

"No that won't be necessary," Tom said firmly. "I inflicted them and I will fix them. Come Hermione."

Hermione swallowed hard as she took the arm Tom was offering and made to follow him around the corner and then further down the ledge around another corner to an alcove a bit more private. Bellatrix and Ginevra looked reluctant to let Hermione out of their sight.

Once away from everyone's curious eyes, Tom sat Hermione down forcefully before brandishing his wand. Hermione flinched at what she apparently expected to be another round of hexes but Tom merely cast a blood staving charm before muttering, " _Ferula_ ," conjuring bandages and sitting down next to her in order to begin securing them.

Rubbing her legs, Hermione looked apparently chilled while she took him in with a fearful countenance. Tom was happy to have finally gained the upper hand once more; Hermione was eyeing him wearily as she should be.

"That was foolish to let the elite of Wizarding Britain know what you are capable of," Tom chided as he pulled her legs across his lap.

"I realize that," Hermione snapped clearly on edge. "But it was the heat of the moment."

"Well I hope it was worth it losing your temper like that," Tom said in irritation smoothing the conjured bandages in place. "And you've gone and got blood on your pretty dress."

"Nothing a quick _Tergio_ can't rectify," Hermione said snippily as she fussed with the hem of her dress.

"You're sounding a bit like a sore loser," Tom accused smirking. "Are you a sore loser Hermione?" Tom's hands were lingering on her calves and Hermione's eyes widened at the longer than necessary touch. Tom could not resist the feel of her smooth legs and massaged one challengingly. Hermione caught her breath as she stared up at him imploringly. Out of nowhere, Tom was stricken with the inexplicable desire to take Hermione's lips in a bruising kiss and devour her.

Most likely fearful of the blatant hunger in Tom's eyes, Hermione made to pull her outstretched legs quickly away from his reach but Riddles grip was firmer and he pulled her easily over his lap.

"What's the matter Hermione?" Tom asked silkily. "Don't tell me you are a coward as well?"

"I'm no coward," Hermione declared eyes laced with defiance and…something else. Tom could not help but let his eyes rove over Hermione's figure. He glanced appreciatively at the creamy expanse of flesh spilling out of her bodice. Then back up to take in the sparkling features of her face. He was momentarily distracted once more by the small white butterflies hovering above her head. She looked ever the fairy nymph.

"No?" Tom challenged his voice velvety. "Then perhaps you won't object if I do this." Tom leaned in purposefully, closing the small gap between them. Slanting his mouth over hers, Tom took her lips in a searing kiss that quickly grew hot and wild. Tom could feel Hermione's heart beat racing and knew she could feel his erection pressed insistently against her abdomen, an erection he had been force to conceal since their duel. Tom sucked on her lower lip and on impulse she opened her mouth granting him the access he desired. Tom grabbed Hermione by the hips effectively securing her in place above him. Hermione gave a desperate whimper as her hands fisted in his hair dislodging the leafy wreath from around his head. Her mewling sounds only called to him as he felt a violent tremor run through her body.

"Tom," Hermione called gasping as she pulled a few inches away. "Someone will come."

Irritated at being disrupted, Tom cast a nonverbal _Muffilato_ , before meeting her lips once more. Hermione kissed him back with a fervor. To any onlookers, Hermione probably looked ever the trapped fairy, at the mercy of Tom a vengeful god that rivaled the beauty of Adonis himself.

"I never realized dueling is what gets you in the mood," Tom mused between kisses. "Or fighting in general."

"It's your bloody aphrodisiac charm," Hermione accused hotly. "Can you only win by cheating?" But Hermione was only half-heartedly committed to the argument, content to get back to snogging.

"The charm is only good for a few minutes," Tom informed her but Hermione just mumbled her acknowledgement. Tom sensed a buzzing in his ears and angled his head to nuzzle her neck.

"How can you stand those fucking insects," he asked annoyed between his nips and licks.

"Ah, they weren't this loud before, oh-," Hermione keened as Tom nipped a particularly sensitive spot at the nape of her neck.

With a knowing glint in his eyes Tom pulled back smugly. "Sensitive are we?" His demeanor was predatory.

"Oh shut it," Hermione quipped ignoring his teasing. She tried to pull him back in for another kiss but Tom grabbed a hold of his wand and pointed it at a vine hanging above the covered patio shrouded by trees. The vine lowered itself before winding tightly around Hermione's wrists essentially binding her hands above her head.

"Tom!" She shouted angrily. "Unbind me this instant!"

"I don't think so," Tom crooned caressing the side of her glittering face. "You are at my mercy now."

"Someone will find us," Hermione warned but her words died as Tom silenced her with his mouth. His kisses were possessive and dominating, he wanted to erase all doubt in Hermione's mind of whom she belonged to. Traveling lower down her neck until reaching her collar bone, Hermione seemed very responsive to this. Tom slowly trailed his fingers to the hem of her dress and then up further.

"No," Hermione said clamping her legs together and turning her flushed face away.

"What's the matter darling, is there something you do not wish for me to discover?"

Hermione would not meet his gaze.

"Tsk, tsk Hermione," Tom shook his head in mock disapproval. "Too cowardly to look me in the eye? No matter, you'll find I can be very accommodating."

Rearranging their positions, Tom turned Hermione around so her back was pressed against his chest. Nipping at her ear he resumed his ascension up her thigh until he reached the silky material of her knickers. Pressing a finger against her seam, Hermione let out a low moan. Tom could feel the heat of her core and to Hermione's apparent mortification, how wet she was. Tom smiled into her neck as his fingers probed her expertly through her knickers. It was incredibly erotic, both of them facing the same way, concealed in the alcove of the trees, as Tom worked her into a frantic state.

"Tom," she gasped. "Unbind me."

"I don't think so Hermione."

"Unbind my hands. Please."

Tom decided he very much enjoyed her begging, adored it actually. Pushing her knickers aside, he decided to reward her but was unprepared for the rush of lust that hit him as his fingers grazed her silky folds. His erection already oversensitive and throbbing, his hardness wept with the urge to be inside her by the time he found her sensitive bud.

"Tom," she mewled. "Please, I want to touch _you_."

Tom swallowed hard fighting the urge to grant her request but steeling his resolve, he had to remind himself that it was him who would gain the upper hand this night, despite the scorching sensuality that consumed him. Spinning her around again against her binds; Tom dropped to his knees and looked up to meet her eyes.

"Open your eyes," he instructed as he bunched up her dress at the waist. "I want you to see what I do to you."

Hermione opened her heavily-lidded eyes and when he was content he had her attention, he deliberately dipped his head down to her pulsating core and licked. He felt Hermione's knees buckle as she moaned her pleasure and he slammed her against the ledge for support. Continuing with his ministrations, Tom added his fingers to his tongue, letting his left hand travel up to her breast while still clutching her dress. He increased the speed and pressure savoring the musky, sweet taste of her. He watched Hermione's pretty face contort with a mixture of pleasure and pain as she grinded against him mindlessly.

At that moment, Tom heard a snap and noticed Hermione had successfully broken the binds, even without her wand. Her legs giving out she fell to the inside of the ledge and her hands wondered down to Tom's hair, absently massaging the nape of his neck, while holding him shamelessly in place.

Tom quickened the pace of his fingers swearing when he felt her walls clamp and flutter around him. Against her grip, Tom dragged his head away from between her legs but continued to let her ride her pleasure out on his fingers. Tom took her lips in a fierce kiss letting her taste herself, groaning as he felt his cock throb with a demanding need unlike any he'd ever felt. Hermione was only just getting started when Tom swore once more this time pulling away from her.

"Someone's coming," he whispered as he straightened his wreath and painfully adjusted himself. Hermione whimpered yearning for the relief she was surreptitiously cut short of and only just had the presence of mind to pull up the strap of her dress and lower her hiked up skirt.

Tom instantly recognized the shadow of Grindelwald approaching in the moonlight and cursed at his interruption. Never before had the desire to kill the meddlesome wizard been so powerful. When Gellert rounded the corner he eyed the pair suspiciously.

"You have been gone a while," Gellert said to Tom accusingly.

"I sprained my ankle in the duel," Hermione said attempting to calm her panting. "Tom fixed it but it's still sore."

"My wife needed to rest," Tom said carefully concealing his rage. He should not have to explain himself to the haughty wizard before him.

"Of course," Gellert granted silently assessing Hermione's rumpled state and flushed features. "Well, you may be interested to know that while the two of you were _resting_ , Harry Potter was spotted at the Manor tonight."

 **000**

"Harry!" Ginny said grabbing the wizard fiercely in a tight hug. "I was so worried until I saw your patronus."

Standing under the canopy of trees in the woods between Riddle and Malfoy lands, Ginny finally allowed herself to breathe easy when she saw that Harry was safe.

"Sorry Ginny," Harry said apologetically. "I was going to the loo and I completely forgot to drink my potion. You know, because we were drinking other stuff," he said sheepishly.

"That's nothing to mess around with," Ginny said angrily pushing him in the chest. "Olive Hornby spotted you and then ran and told the Minister. You effectively shut down that party—everyone was looking for you! Well those that hadn't left already that is."

"Sorry Gin," he said again. "George and Fred's modified polyjuice is not like the regular stuff, you have to take it more frequently. And it slipped my mind. I didn't realize my error until Hornby spotted me, and I made a break for it."

"Well are you sober now?"

"Definitely," he answered.

"Good," Ginny said. "Let's go back to the Burrow before any other catastrophes happen."

Harry followed dutifully behind as Ginny pulled him with her. "Ginny," he started. "I did have a good time tonight, up until the end anyway. Did you?"

Ginny turned to face him again. "Well besides being scared out of my mind this past hour, I had a lovely time tonight. Really Harry, this ball was a fairytale come true."

Harry couldn't agree more.

 **000**


	10. Chapter 10: A Friendly Match

**A/N: I apologize for any errors as I was eager to get this posted before I am offline for eight days starting tomorrow (vacation time!) I would have had this up sooner, only I've been getting distracted with Dramione lately.**

 **At any rate, I hope to get some progress made on my trip. I'll be on the ocean and feel like that may be a muse in itself for me-I love the water.**

 **Thank you to all the reviewers and please let me know what you think! Happy reading C:**

 **Beta Love to Reverseuniverse!**

* * *

 **000**

With the sun shining on his face, there was no denying Peter Pettigrew overslept this morning. Hastily he clamored out of bed to take a look outside. Sure enough, the street was already bustling with people. He cursed silently at his oversight, wondering how Mr. Eeylop would scold him. Fortunately, he did not have to go very far as he stayed in a flat just above _Eeylops Owl Emporium_. As he hurried to the dressing panel to grab his shirt and trousers hanging there, he ran a hand through his tousled blond hair.

It had not been easy securing a job post-graduation. Unlike Harry or Sirius, he was not known for a wide-range of academic talents. He was a mediocre Quidditch player at best. He probably could have been better at Potions and Charms had he applied himself. Sadly, that hadn't been the case. His strongest strength was undoubtedly Transfiguration. He had secretly learned to become an Animagus after all! Even if his Animagus form was a lowly rat.

Peter liked living where all the action happened, despite his mother's wishes for him to stay with her in the country .He knew she had expected him to he attain a Ministry position. Clearly, Mrs. Pettigrew did not realize just how hard it was to get into Ministry. _There is an opening in the Pet Advisory Bureau._ He thought. _But I'll never get an interview unless someone puts in a good word for me._ Peter knew this was true, he'd never seen anyone get in unless they had friends in higher places. _Cas and Rabastan got in right away._ He reminded himself as he reached the downstairs landing and began the tedious process of unlocking the goblin locks guarding the Emporium. Peter was thankful it was Sunday so he could close early and get to the Quidditch pitch.

Peter did have an "in". Ever the opportunist, it was hard to ignore Cassiel's offer. _Lady Nott will put in a good word for you, Wormtail_ , Cas had said. _Just let us know where your friend has run off to_. It was an easy enough task to complete. Harry had been his only friend at Hogwarts during his First Year. Later to be followed by Sirius and Ron. At that point, the four of them became inseparable. . Harry had always been friendly to him. A fact that lead Peter to idolize his group of friends straight away. Cassiel Nott however, he admired him above all else—even more so than Harry and Sirius.

Nott was always good at everything—incredible in classes, a natural Quidditch player, and ever the charmer with the witches. Truly, Peter had only dreamed of being just like the older wizard. He even secretly modeled his life after him. The Gryffindors he grew up with were a boisterous, and jovial crowd to be sure. But there was something about the mysterious Slytherins that screamed _power_.

Peter had never felt powerful. Not even whilst wielding his wand. He was constantly plagued with doubts in his abilities and craved the feeling of being influential…to be somebody others listened to. A job at the Ministry would certainly be a pride worthy accomplishment. It may even get others to notice him, certain wolfish-witches for example.

Thoughts of Piper Greyback flashed through his mind. The witch only stayed at Hogwarts through their Fourth Year, after that her family moved to Bulgaria. The story was that her father attained a position with the Bulgarian Ministry. However, Peter knew the truth. Piper had been infected with lycanthropy just like her father Fenrir. With the British Ministry cracking down on werewolves, it became necessary to flee before they were found out. The decision had devastated Peter who had become an Animagus in order to make Piper feel more comfortable with her infliction. Harry and Sirius had joined him in his studies. They secretly trainined as well, determined to join their friend in his illegal act as they had no intention of registering.

The three friends saw what happened to registered Animagus. They were labeled freaks, and isolated. It was best to leave this talents concealed. Sirius, ever the Herbology wiz, had even collected wolfsbane and Sirius and Peter had used the herb to concoct Wolfsbane potion, a tonic of their own invention that could help curb the effects of lycanthropy. When Piper did change, it was nice to have the kinship of a stag, dog, and even a rat, to keep her company.

Peter swore that one day he would become a man of influence, and be able to bring Piper back to her home. No one knew of her or her father's curse and Peter hoped to one day become the wizard that could protect her and keep her secret safe.

It was a hope that Peter thought of regularly and a desire that consumed his reveries, so it was no wonder that he did not initially notice the three witches and wizards who entered the Emporium

"Pettigrew," Parkinson called imperiously. "I need feed for my snow owl. What do you recommend?"

Startled out of his internal musings, Peter jumped when he noticed Parkinson flanked by Bulstrode and Nott.

"Step lively," Nott called, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "It's nearly time for the midday's meal, surely you're awake by now, Pettigrew?"

"Y-yes," Peter stuttered, as he always did whenever in the presence of this group. "We have a new mix that just came in from Russia."

"Oh do be quick about it," Bulstrode whined. "Cas may be ready for a midday's meal, but I'd prefer a midday's nap after last night."

"I'm with you Milly," Parkinson agreed. "Daphne does throw a rather wild bash, doesn't she?"

"The wildest Pans," Bulstrode nodded, while massaging her temples. "And really I think I indulged a bit too much."

"Will this do?" Peter asked, gesturing to the white, purple, and brown feed.

"Yes, yes, just give me a pound of it please," Parkinson demanded.

Peter hurried to shovel the feed into a brown, burlap sack.

"No invite to the Greengrasses event for you, huh Pettigrew?" Nott asked.

"No," Peter muttered distractedly. "Not this time."

"Hmph," Parkinson huffed. "Not this time or any time." Peter ignored the jibe; he was used to being excluded after all.

"You might find it interesting then," Nott started enticingly. "That one of your old school chums made an appearance."

"I'd imagine there were a good many in attendance," Peter replied.

"Yes, but one in particular," Bulstrode went on.

"Oh," Peter said, taking the bait. "Who?"

"Harry Potter," Parkinson informed him haughtily.

Peter was shocked into silence, effectively halting his actions. "That makes no sense though," Peter started, talking more so to himself than the trio before him. "Why would he risk his location to go to a party?"

"Some joke, so it would seem," Bulstrode deduced. "He clearly had it all planned out."

"Well, he didn't tell me," Peter complained before swallowing audibly and realizing his error. Horrified, he brought his gaze up to meet Nott's; the older wizard's eyes glittering dangerously.

"Ladies," Nott began while not taking his eyes off Peter. "Meet me outside while I pay for the goods. We can go to get ice cream in a bit."

"Oh good idea," Bulstrode said enthusiastically. "I could go for a treat."

Peter watched the girls go as a sense of foreboding began to seep into him. When the door of the shop closed, he turned resolutely to meet Nott's stare.

"Some friend," Nott commented, as he began fingering the cage of a nearby screech owl. "Doesn't even include you in his plans."

 _I'm sure he had his reasons_ , he thought inwardly but outwardly, said nothing.

"He made quite the spectacle," Nott went on comfortingly. "Everyone in a mad rush to find him. The Minister was in attendance you know."

When Peter still made no room to comment, Nott went on undeterred. "I do not know why you stay so loyal to the half-blood. I daresay his friendship means more to you than it does to him. Ever thought of pursuing your own interests? Or are you content to spend your days as a lowly shop worker—serving others for the rest of your life."

"I won't be here for the rest of my life," Peter replied meekly.

"No?" Nott diverted his attention from the cage and turned his piercing gaze back on Peter. "Then you'd better take a long look at things Petey-boy, because whether you or your friends realize it or not; times are changing and you wouldn't want to end up on the wrong side of things. You know what it will take, you know how I can help. I work for powerful people-,"

"Grindelwald," Peter interrupted.

"Lord Voldemort," Nott corrected, his jaw set cruelly. "Who you will find to be a more formidable opponent than any you've seen before. Make no mistake, Potter will be found. But let it be sooner, at your hands, where you can gain favor, ratherr than go down eventually, with the losing side."

Peter swallowed again, the dread seeming to seep through his veins.

"Remember what I said," Nott called warningly as he turned to go. "Mull things over for a bit if you must, but our patience only goes so far. See you this afternoon."

Peter watched blankly, staring off long after Nott left. He had avoided getting involved at the beginning, but now it seemed he was faced with a rather pressing decision.

 **000**

Clutching onto Tom's arm tightly, Hermione felt the now familiar pull of apparition. She was finding it a lot easier to avoid getting sick from this form of travel the more she did it. They arrived promptly at the Quidditch pitch and Hermione felt her jaw drop as she took in the sight before her. It wasn't so much the large field surrounded by stands that made her awestruck, but also the lush greenery and hills encompassing it. There was even a waterfall she could see behind one of the large rings that were on either side of the field. It was located on the north side about ten times larger than the one at Riddle Manor.

"You're impressed, I take it," Tom observed.

"Yes," she agreed. "It's quite magnificent, isn't it?"

"Not really," he commented in a bored tone. "The one at Hogwarts is much larger. The one at the Quidditch World Cup dwarfs them both."

"Well you'll just have to take me one day, won't you?"

"If you insist," he answered noncommittally. He cast her a sideways glance then smirked. "I see you actually let Hokey do her job this morning."

Hermione fingered her dress, a rich burgundy gown with a cream overlay. Silk sleeves accented her forearms falling just short of her wrists. Her hair was pinned completely on top of her head with only a few curls escaping.

She swallowed audibly.

After the previous night's performance, Hermione had to question her licentious behavior—she had acted lustful and immoral. It wasn't as if she was not in her right to, after all, Tom was her husband. It was what he stood for that was the problem. She had realized that Tom must have played a large role in the regime that ultimately led to the dark wizards assuming power in her time. His prejudices were not as outspoken as some of his peers but Hermione had the inkling they were just as deep if not more so. Not only that, he possessed a staggering amount of power and people listened to him—he was very influential figure.

Hermione was not sure if there'd be any swaying him, the stubborn wizard that he was, but at the very least she should distance herself. Avoiding moments of a more intimate nature was probably the best course of action.

Looking at Tom pointedly, she answered, "Hokey has been wonderful, but I can manage on my own thank you very much."

"And deprive Hokey of the honor?" Tom asked in mock concern as they made their way to the field. "How cruel of you."

"That's exactly why I let her, isn't it?" She snapped. "Besides, it's not as if I care so much about it."

"No," he agreed, placing a hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the entrance. "You'd much prefer to spend your precious time learning non-verbal magic than acting like the proper witch."

"Because being well-versed in defensive magic is _so_ improper," she replied snarkily. Tom merely shrugged. _Ugh this is going nowhere_ , she thought. She was saved from continuing the discussion when the others hurried to meet them.

"Charles, Tonks," she greeted, brightening up immediately. "Glad to see some friendly faces." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Daphne and her friends making their way up the stands.

"Good to see you Hermione," Tonks said leaning in to give her a hug.

"Nymphadora, Charles," Tom greeted, ever the gentlemen as he took Tonks hand then turned to face Charles. "And why aren't you on the field?"

Charles winced ever so slightly before responding, "Just here for moral support."

"Moral support?" Hermione asked but she could not finish the thought as suddenly Cas came running up with Rabastan not far behind and Abraxas further back still.

"Tom," Cas started panting. "You have to play with us, we're short."

"There's Edmund Prevell and Cygnus Avery," Tom pointed out, a muscle twitching by his eye.

"Yes but that only makes five," Abraxas tallied. "We can do without a third chaser but we need at least two and two beaters."

"Who plays what?" Hermione asked.

"Cas is Seeker and I play Keeper," Rabastan explained. "Prevell and Avery are Beaters and Malfoy plays Chaser."

"Tom can play Chaser," Cas said confidently.

"In duress," Tom amended.

"Five will have to do," Sirius said coming up with his group. "Ron plays Keeper and I suppose I can play Seeker. But we've only got Fred, George, and Peter. So five is even."

"Not so fast," Ginny said, appearing out of nowhere dressed in Quidditch garb. "Seeker is my position and you know it Sirius. We'll simply have to be short a Chaser."

"Oh Ginny what did I tell you?" Scolded Fred. "Not out in public." The wizards from both teams looked at her in horror.

"You're just afraid I'll show you up," Ginny accused. "Come on, let me play." She then gestured towards another wizard Hermione had not met before who sported tousled dirty blond hair and presented a somewhat meek demeanor. "Besides, Peter cannot be Chaser on his own and you and George do not know any other position but Beater."

"You can't be serious," Abraxas said aghast. "It's completely improper to even consider." They were gathering attention from some of the witches and wizards already in the stands.

Hermione immediately rushed to Ginny's defense, excited at the site of her dressed in a Quidditch uniform. "What a positively medieval opinion," She said glaring squarely at Abraxas until he had no choice but to look away.

"He's right, Hermione," Cas said apologetically. "That kind of thing simply does not happen."

"Well it should," Hermione looked up at Tom intensely, silently willing him to come to her aid. "Don't you agree Tom? Why shouldn't Ginny be able to play, unless the guys are afraid of her skill set?"

Tom met her gaze easily and Hermione thought that inwardly he was rolling his eyes. "It is only for sport." Tom granted. "But they would be outmatched and I am certainly not playing."

Feeling a flicker of annoyance, she was about to argue more when Charles spoke up.

"I'll play Chaser," he offered looking to Cas and Abraxas.

Sirius jaw clenched, Ginny's eyes widened, and Hermione grinned triumphantly.

They all looked to Tom. "Well," he began begrudgingly. "I don't see a problem with it."

"It is just for fun," Cas relented. "Only, it will hardly be a fair fight. You might as well just give us the bragging rights now-."

Ginny punched him in the arm. "Ow," he cried. "Was that necessary?" Tonks giggled and Cas smiled ruefully at her, seemingly not in as much pain as he pretended.

"Right, well, sounds like it's settled then," Hermione said grabbing Tom's arm. "Gin—give these pompous _boys_ hell." Tom blanched at this and they began making their way to join the others in the stand.

They were immediately motioned over by Bellatrix.

"Oh I do enjoy a good game," Bellatrix started. "Really, any reason to get out of the house is good enough for me."

"Where's father, mum?" Hermione asked, making to sit next to her as Tom sat at her right.

"He volunteered to ref the match," Bellatrix said. "There he is now."

Hermione looked to where Bellatrix was pointing and sure enough, she saw Rodolphus in the middle of the field releasing four balls in the circle.

"So, only six players on each team?" Hermione leaned over to ask Tom. "Is it always that way?"

"More or less for matches like this," he answered, talking lowly into her ear. "Each side has two Beaters, two Chasers, a Keeper, and a Seeker. Should make for a sufficient game, though the time is always variable."

"He released the Bludgers and the snitch," she noticed. "Does that signal the start of the game?"

"Snitch?" Tom asked looking at her peculiarly. "You mean the Snidget?"

"Snidget?" She repeated dumbly. "You mean like the bird?"

"Yes of course, _like the bird_ ," he mimicked. "And the game doesn't start until the Quaffle is released."

"How barbaric!" Hermione declared hotly. "You mean to say the Snidget is used, like, some ball?"

"Well of course," Tom replied slightly befuddled by her apparent ire. "Catching the Snidget can win the game—it's worth 150 points."

"But the birds are fragile. I would imagine plucking them from the wild severely depletes their population, as there so many Quidditch matches. And what if they are harmed in the match?"

"Collateral damage I suppose," Tom responded easily.

Hermione said nothing, fuming in the seat next to him. She calmed down after a bit and endeavoring to change the subject, she spoke up again, "So why aren't you going out there with the rest of them?"

"I think it's a silly waste of one's time and don't particularly care for the sport."

"You do seem to know a lot about it," she pointed out, eyes glued on the match finding it slightly entertaining to watch after all.

"I know a lot about a great many things, Hermione," Tom said smugly and she could feel his dark gaze on her.

"I'm sure that's true," she allowed. Turning her body to face him slightly, she whispered. "But I think you have a secret fear of heights."

"I am an excellent flier, actually."

"Really," she questioned, slightly doubtful. "Well you'll just have to show me, won't you? Or I daresay I'd be hard pressed to believe it." He looked steadily at her and she smiled teasingly back.

"Quit you're whispering," Bellatrix said, shushing them. "This is a tense match."

"It will be over soon," Pansy predicted from a row ahead. "They have no chance with a witch on their team."

Hermione rolled her eyes not even bothering to hide her disapproval.

"Pansy always knows," Olive explained looking back at them. "She's skilled in Divination."

"Oh," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. _I doubt that very seriously_ , she thought quietly.

"They haven't a chance," Tom agreed, steepling his fingers in front of him as he leaned forward to watch the game. Hermione noticed Daphne was paying avid attention to the spectacle, following the broom of a certain dark-haired individual. _Interesting,_ Hermione thought.

"Care to make a wager on that," she whispered to Tom.

"You think the Gryffindors will win?"

"Are they all Gryffindors?" She asked gesturing to the team with Sirius and the Weasleys.

"Hmph, obviously."

"Well, yes," she clarified. "I am for them, then."

"And what do you want to wager?"

"Hmm," Hermione hummed, putting a finger to her chin as she thought. "I've got it. If my team wins, you are to give me a lesson, a lesson of my choice."

"And if I win…"

"If you win…Well, what do you want?" Hermione immediately regretted voicing the question right after she asked it. Tom's impossibly dark eyes darkened further and she suddenly felt like the space she was in was closing in on her, though they were obviously in an open area so _that_ was silly.

"If I win," Tom started breaking the silence. "I'll give you a lesson of _my_ choice."

Hermione gulped.

She should definitely not agree to this, _why would she ever agree to this_?

"Alright," she answered promptly,

Tom's eyes glittered in response. Hermione forcibly pulled her eyes away from his, praying that her team would come out on top. _Come on Gin_ , she thought, _don't fail me now._

"Getting awfully near the boundary line," said an older, friendly wizard that she remembered meeting at the wedding. _Slughorn_ , if she recalled correctly.

"You'd better watch our boys, Professor," said Bellatrix. "You know how they do favor the occasional _Blagging_."

"Slytherin to the core," Slughorn replied jovially.

"What's 'Blagging?'" Hermione asked.

"It's when the player in question seizes the broom handle in front of them," Tom answered. "In order to hinder their opponent."

"Oh," she said, watching as Cas was doing just that to Ginny who seemed to have spotted the Snidget.

"There's Sirius going for the _Reverse Pass_ ," Bellatrix noted.

"Of course that oaf Peter would let the Quaffle get intercepted," Daphne complained. Hermione was surprised by how knowledgeable everyone here truly was about Quidditch.

Milly piped in, "You have to admit; Ginevra is quick on a broom, isn't she?"

"She's quick," Pansy granted. "But no one is quicker than Cas."

"I don't know," Slughorn said not so sure. "My dear girl, it looks like Nott is tiring a bit sooner on that broom. Weasley seems like she can stay on there for days on end."

"I don't see how not a single one of them are on any professional teams," Hermione mused. "They are positively brilliant out there."

"I don't think that Quidditch is a priority for this Ministry," Tom said darkly. Hermione glanced his way but he merely looked straight ahead. "Who knows, it may be obsolete in a hundred years."

 _Who knows,_ she repeated in her head, but she knew. Quidditch was an ancient sport that would die out sooner rather than later in her time, shortly after the advent of the snitch, apparently, and Hermione found that devastating. Watching Tom and the others watch the players on the field, it felt almost innocent and nostalgic, a pleasant time when people were civil to each other, pursuing things much more innocent than what was sought after in the future. So why did everyone jump on the dark wizard's cause, essentially deciding the fate of the world she was familiar with. _If only they knew_ , she thought sadly.

"I don't believe it," Bellatrix jumped out of her seat excitedly nearly jumping up and down. "The _Chelmondiston Charge_ , Abraxas is going to have a hard time blocking that."

Hermione watched closely alongside the others as Sirius stood on his broomstick and leapt, simultaneously thrusting the Quaffle towards the hoop Abraxas was guarding. It went towards the blond with force, and he could do nothing to stop it from reaching home. Hermione cheered as the goal was called. Slughorn fixed her with a strange look. Hermione sat down feeling silly to be caught cheering against her husband's team.

"Why doesn't father call a foul on that Avery character?" Hermione whined to Bellatrix. "He clearly set fire to Fred's broom tail."

"I wouldn't worry about the Weasley twins," Tom assured her. "They have plenty of tricks up their sleeves."

Hermione wasn't so sure.

"Between that and the _Haversacking_ ," Daphne said, forgetting herself as she leaned towards Hermione. "The Slytherin team has this in the bag." She didn't sound as happy about this as Hermione thought she should be.

Hermione looked questionably to Bellatrix whom answered her unspoken question knowingly. "When the player still has his hand on the Quaffle as it goes through the hoop," she whispered, explaining the foul.

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Our boys are ahead by a lot," Pansy said, sounding pleased.

Clenching her jaw, Hermione looked on, not even noticing the pretty scenery around her anymore as she was glued on the game. She was pretty sure she'd be losing her bet. "Look," Tom pointed, but Hermione already saw what he was referring to. "Ginevra's spotted the Snidget."

"I don't see it," Daphne carped. _Neither do I_ , Hermione thought as she watched Ginny dive down sharply from high above. Cas noticed Ginny's decent and went barreling after her towards the ground below. At the last minute, she pulled up but Cas was not quick enough and skidded onto the grass.

"She feinted him out," Bellatrix said in shock.

" _The Wronski Feint_ ," Slughorn said seemingly impressed.

"How did the little blood-traitor know that trick?" Bellatrix asked, bewildered. Hermione merely snickered as she watched Ginny, who had apparently caught sight of the bird for real and was pursuing after it at lightning speed. Cas was just getting his bearings as he began to follow after her, but he was too far behind. In the end, he didn't have a chance.

"Careful when you grab the bird!" Hermione couldn't help but yell as she hurriedly bolted up from her seat. The others stared at her as if she had grown three heads. "Their bodies are fragile and a simple human grip can crush them." She explained. Tom pulled her down beside him in irritation. Hermione wondered if she could commission the advent of the Golden Snitch earlier. Would it be horrible to bring about its invention sooner? She knew all it would take was a skilled metal-charmer.

Ginny caught the Snidget, albeit carefully at Hermione's behest, and she cheered with abandon as she made to rush down to the field.

"Aren't you coming Tom?" She asked the figure behind her. "Don't be a sore loser. Come, let's congratulate the underdogs." His face fell into his usual impassive mask not betraying a single feeling, and yet instinctively Hermione could tell that he was fuming.

Always one to fan the flame, Hermione leaned in to whisper sweetly into his ear as they reached the pit, "I think I'd like an Astronomy lesson tonight." Then she broke away from his side to race over to an excited Ginny. She was definitely in her debt. Hermione was triumphant to have dodged whatever Tom would have planned for her had he won.

 **000**


	11. Chapter 11: A Lesson Goes Awry

**A/N: Wow! I am shocked that this story has made it to 99 reviews. Thanks so much for the feedback, follows, and favorites everyone! I feel horrible for keeping you all waiting so long for the next chapter. Once I finish a few WIP's I'm almost done with, these updates will come rather quickly but 55hr weeks like the last one I had are killing me! I'm happy to say I have a stronger outline for this fic and can tell you we are not quite at the halfway point in the story.**

 **A big thanks to: tneha, PinkSlytherin, Christine Rose, marzipan, kadalina69, mega700201, Beth, BathildaBagshot, riddlesgurl86, ACDS, LoveCommaTiffayy, Amara, Annamonk, and all the guests!**

 **Thank you Siderius for helping me with the Daphne POV C: and thanks Reverseuniverse for the wonderful beta!**

 **Hope you enjoy the next chapter (be warned it gets a bit dark) and happy reading!**

* * *

 **000**

Hermione followed closely behind Tom as he led them both into his Potion's chamber. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he lit the sconces on the wall and approached the Astronomy platform. Again, he motioned with his wand and the seat in front of the telescope enlarged itself until it was big enough to accommodate the two of them.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Hermione asked. "Before you leave for whatever important work the Minister has assigned you?"

"Probably not," Tom replied. "I'll be leaving very early—in a couple hours, actually."

Hermione pursed her lips. She certainly _wasn't_ disappointed, why would she be? It would be heavenly to have the Manor to herself—free from unforgivable casting wizards.

"I still don't see why we needed to wait until midnight to come up here." Hermione complained, stifling a yawn. "I'm sure it would have been just fine to come up as soon as it turned dark."

Flippantly, "Yes, but this is the best time for a lesson, you see. It's when the stars are brightest. If First Year Hogwarts students could attend class at this time, surely you can manage." He beckoned her to come forward.

"Hmph," she muttered, but complied nonetheless. She took the hand Tom offered and stepped onto the platform easing herself down loftily beside him. Immediately, she felt the platform begin to elevate towards the balcony as she knew it would. "Ingenious," she commented. "How you combine Muggle technology with magic."

"Muggle technology," he scoffed. "Hardly."

"It's clear this platform is being raised in a rotary fashion; I hear the wheels turning. Not to mention the telescope itself—was that not a Muggle inventor who discovered it?"

"I suppose. The Ministry does not recognize scientific inventions by Muggles. But this is a core subject taught at Hogwarts. You'll be learning in the same manner that all witches and wizards do."

Hermione's voice was alight with excitement , "So we'll use magic, then?"

"No, not exactly. There's no need for practical magic during Astronomy lessons. The purpose of the class is to study the stars and the movement of the planets."

"Ah, so basically what Muggles do," she pressed.

"No," he answered firmly. "We use the knowledge to fill star charts. It's very useful in Runes and Divination. Ministry officials are required to be familiar with the advantages of combining one magical subject to strengthen the other."

"I see."

The platform came to a halt and Hermione had to catch her breath at the view before her. The white marble balcony was bathed in starlight, the forest darkly dotting the horizon, and the sound of the waterfall in the garden below could be heard falling steadily.

"It's quite lovely up here," she observed. "A fine choice to view the stars."

Smugly, "Of course—that's why I built it this way." Tom retrieved a scroll from the table drawer and began smoothing it out on the table in front of them. "This is a map of Jupiter," he explained. "I've already began filling it in, but it'd be good practice for you to fill in the blanks and track the movements."

Hermione fingered the map carefully, intent on assessing the technique behind it. She'd viewed completed star, moon, and planetary charts before but she'd never looked in a telescope to fill one out for herself.

"Go on then," he encouraged, motioning for her to lean in and look through the telescope.

Over the next hour, Tom diligen instructed Hermione on how to use the telescope and focus its eye on particular systems. She thought he was a wonderful teacher, another addition to the already ridiculously long list of things he was wonderful at.

"You say Thebe is supposed to be near Almathea, but I can't find it anywhere," she said, perplexed. She could feel Tom smirking at her but was too caught up in her studies to care.

"If you wouldn't jerk the telescope around so much," he said, watching her closely. "Perhaps you wouldn't keep passing over it."

"Oh," she called excitedly. "I've found Lo." She hurried to grab the quill and scratch the location onto the chart before continuing her search.

"It's easy to see, very luminous what with all the volcanoes constantly erupting on it," he commented dismissively.

"Sometimes it's hard to tell a moon apart from a large star."

"Not really," he scoffed.

"Ah, there's Europa," she said as she leaned forward to scribble down another line on the quickly filling chart. "It's all by its lonesome out there. I feel sorry for it. No wonder it's covered in ice."

"Your reasoning is absurd."

"Must be nice to be so knowledgeable about _everything_ ," she quipped.

"It must be difficult for someone as competitive as you to be bested by someone."

"You've hardly bested me. I do think an entire seven years of magical education and one night of Astronomy instruction is hardly a fair comparison."

"Life isn't fair."

"Ugh, Tom, I was talking about the bloody chart. Which by the way—I've located Amalthea," she happily snatched the quill to track the last of the moons. "There. It's finished. How's that for one night of Astronomy instruction?" She looked up at him proudly.

Snatching up the map, Tom looked over her work. "It would be excellent," he began and Hermione preened under the praise. "Only, you've switched Amalthea with Adrastea—rendering this chart completely useless." Hermione felt herself visibly deflate.

"Let me see that," she demanded, snatching up the parchment. "Gods, I know the bloody order. It'll only take me a minute to fix. You've been distracting me, that's all." She leaned forward once more, hearing her skirts rustle around her as she looked into the telescope.

"I've hardly spoke at all."

"What do you call all the Ministry rhetoric you've been spewing? Honestly, one has to wonder if you have any original thoughts yourself."

"Ministry rhetoric?" Tom furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Yes, how the Ministry doesn't recognize Muggles contributions to science, yet they clearly use their inventions. Or how the Ministry requires the Astronomical knowledge when dealing with Runes and wards—presumably for their top tiered wizards. Or how life isn't fair, well isn't that the Ministry's mantra? If you aren't born into the right house, bloodlines…well, you get the picture." Hermione was panting when she was finished, her chest rising and falling, the passion evident in her eyes.

Tom assessed her quietly. Hermione met his inquisitive gaze easily but soon wish she hadn't. Tom had always cut an imposing figure and his striking beauty was undeniable. But in the moonlight, his features took on an almost ethereal look, a stark contrast to the devilish man she knew him to be. If it wasn't for the cruelty edging the corners of his mouth, he could almost be mistaken for an angelic being. Rarely did Hermione get to catch a glimpse of Tom without his ever present masks of indifference or smug smirks. At this moment, she felt like she was seeing the true Tom, and it floored her.

She swallowed audibly.

"Do you ever stop thinking, Hermione?" She thought his voice had dropped a few octaves and felt a chill run down her spine.

"Do you?" She countered, immensely proud of herself for keeping the tremble out of her voice.

"I do wonder what goes on in that pretty little head of yours," he drawled. "You say things…things a proper witch would _never_ say."

"Is that code for _I-think-for-myself_?"

Tom did not look pleased. Angling his body towards her, he continued. "All this talk, Hermione, of the Ministry and your views on it…well, it needs to stop. You sound awfully akin to a blood-traitor and I can't have a wife of mine spewing such nonsense." The threat was clear in his tone but she could not bring herself to heed it.

"Nonsense? It's hardly nonsense. It's a simple fact—those with the ability to do magic should be able to practice it. As a wizard of power with respect from our community, it's your responsibility to see that-."

Hermione yelped as Tom's hand came around her neck, throttling her as he lifted her several inches off the ground. Her hands flew to his trying in vain to pry his fingers from the death hold they had on her wind pipe

"I've lost all patience with you, witch," he snarled, voice dripping with venom as his lips pressed into a petulant line. "I've told you time and time again to eradicate these controversial ideas from your mind." With his right hand, he withdrew his wand and brought it slowly up to point at the dangling girl. "Cru-."

Eyes widening in fear, she did the only thing she could think of…she kicked him hard in the shin. Tom quickly pulled his arm away, wincing in pain as Hermione dropped to the floor. Stumbling towards him, she quickly shoved him to the floor and straddled him before finallywithdrawing her owand.

Pressing it threateningly up to his temple, she leaned in to whispered menacingly into his ear. "I swear to Merlin, if you try to use your blasted Cruciatus on me again I'll throw it back at you quicker than you can say unforgivable."

Tom quickly rolled them over so he was now the one in the dominate position. Restricting her wrists above her head with one hand, he gripped his wand with the other. "How dare you defy me? I'll make sure you rue the day you ever went against me!" He spat, the malice clear in his eyes. "I'll sooner Imperio you to walk off this balcony. How would you like that—you silly little girl?"

"You evil git."

"I told you before—there's no good and evil but only power and those too weak to seek it."

He did not even utter the words as he pointed his wand at her and a yellow-green light shot out from the tip straight at Hermione's head. She whipped her head back and forth attempting to resist the alluring call of the all-encompassing bliss the unforgivable promised. Oh If only she'd submit. She worked hard to deny the urge to get up as she knew it could be potentially fatal if she did. Sadly however, it seemed that she was fighting a losing battle. Tom's curse was too strong and no amount of self regulation could stop her r leg from moving in an effort to stand.

Before she could completely get up, a purple glittering light erupted forcefully encompassing the perimeter of the room. The sight shocking both Tom and herself. Tom's wand clattered from his grip and went flying towards the edge of the balcony before falling over into the lawns below.

They both watched the entire episode in shock before the realization dawned on Hermione what had just happened.

She looked up at Tom with wonder in her eyes and saw that he had come to the same conclusion. Hermione smirked up at him in amusement. " _Idiot_. Apparently the _mea sempiternum_ you saw fit to bind us with decided that move on your part was a bit too… _fatal_."

"I wasn't going to-."

" _You weren't going to_ ," she mimicked cruelly. "Apparently you were."

"You'd have just broken your leg, maybe. Nothing I couldn't fix easily," Tom frowned, righteous indignation clearly painted across his face.

"Ugh, you scum!" Hermione retorted, pushing him roughly in the chest. "You really are the mad one, aren't you?" She looked at him sharply, staying quiet for a few moments as she let him feel the heat of her gaze. He looked like he was struggling for a solution, as if he'd encountered something he hadn't anticipated. The fact that there had been a situation Tom was not prepared to handle struck Hermione as immensely funny. She burst out laughing. Tom recoiled away from her briefly but did not relinquish his hold on her. "Aw, what's the matter Tom?" She said between giggles. "At a loss for how you can get your revenge on me?"

Before Hermione could continue mocking him, Tom did the only thing he could think of to shut her up.

He kissed her.

He slanted his mouth against hers and kissed her fiercely. Hermione gasped in surprise, this wasthe _last_ thing she had expected. Tom used her momentary shock to plunder her mouth freely. For the first time, Hermione realized the precarious position she was in. Here she lay, straddled by a clearly unhinged wizard. A burst of rage began to boil inside her as she started jostling against his hold in earnest. Sadly, all her wiggling only seemed to spur Tom on. This fact became obvious when one last straining shove lead to a most unexpected discovery. There was something hard, poking persistently against her stomach! The fact was only worsened by the jolt of pleasure coursing through her senses at the in the world? That was an answer she'd never know.

With a valiant effort to regain control, she cried, "Get off!"

"Are you sure you want me to?" Tom crooned silkily, stopping to draw lazy circles on her side. "The _mea sempiternum_ bond does not just thwart plans of harm. There are…other advantages."

He cupped her hip roughly as if to prove his point.

"Don't you dare," she warned. But he merely chuckled in response, dipping his head to nuzzle her neck as his hand ghosted along her arm while his other held her securely against him. Soon, he had captured her lips once more.

Against her will, she began to respond to the kiss. The delicious sensations of his hand running tantalizingly down her side coupled with his skillful mouth proved too difficult to resist. Tom seemed to sense the change in her and pulled her closer to himself, fitting them together like two pieces of a puzzle. Heat radiated throughout her body, seeping into her skin.

Having a mind of their own, Hermione began threading her fingers through his dark locks, raking her nails lightly through his scalp. He broke the kiss, growling in approval and began feathering her neck with open-mouth kisses, nipping and suckling at particularly sensitive spots. She was quickly losing her grasp on reality; too distracted by way his hands were coming up to knead her breasts, breasts that seemed to ache for his touch. She keened in approval wrapping her legs around his waist and locking him against her. How she wished for her bodice to be down. In that moment, all she craved was skin on skin contact. She barely registered the hard balcony floor under her back as she was so caught up in Tom's fiery touches.

His kisses moved down her neck, trailing to her collarbone before his lips joined his hands and latched onto a cloth covered breast. She found herself arching up off the floor and up to meet his lips. His caresses were everywhere and unrelenting. Merlin, but the man knew how to touch her. She was feeling feverish and lost all thought as she felt his hands trailing down to the hem of her dress before bunching up the layers and pulling them slowly up her thigh in an alluring caress. , Hermione attempted to catch her breath in a futile attempt to prepare herself for what was to come.

She looked up resolutely to meet Tom's gaze. His eyes were darkened and hooded with desire. She knew they mirrored the hunger in her own. What gave her pause, however, was the sinister edge to them. Of course he was cruel, she knew that. In truth, she was infuriated at herself for being drawn to him anyways but the words he said earlier continued to echo in her mind.

 _There is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it._

Where had she heard that before? He'd said it the evening of the ball but even before that, the words were familiar…

In a moment of clarity, she jolted in remembrance.

She sat up quickly, eyes flying open in alarm as she pushed a startled Tom off of her.

 _There is no good and evil—only power._

The Death Eater mantra.

Tom knowing those words only meant one thing, he either knew the leader who taught and lived by those words or he was to become one of those leaders himself.

Either way, it was as if a bucket of ice had been poured over her. Only just remembering her discarded wand lying forgotten beside her, she grabbed it quickly,and pointed it at Tom before he could recover from their heated interlude

" _Incarcerous_!" She shouted.

Ropes shot out from her wand entwining themselves tightly around him. Without taking a backwards glance, Hermione bolted upright and ran from the balcony, through his room, down the hall, and quickly to her own. As soon as she reached the safety of her room, she locked the doors and warded it—throwing every protective spell she knew at the wooden exit.

She had never felt so frightened as she did now. The fact that Tom could have such a powerful role in the opposition had never occurred to her. What was even more frightening was the way in which she seemed to be polarized to him. How could she possibly be attracted to such a foreboding man? She needed to get her head checked. The man was a devil in disguise and the smartest thing she could do was put as much distance between herself and him.

 _I hope you don't come back from your secret mission,_ she thought darkly. But the sad thing was, she wasn't entirely sure if she meant it.

Pulling the covers over her head tightly, she fell back on the soft pillows and let the blackness encase her.

She was in trouble—deep trouble.

 **000**

Daphne sat on the ledge of her bedroom window, dangling her foot back and forth as she looked out towards the forest. Her face was red and swollen from crying and she was all out of sorts.

She knew she should be happy. Sure, initially, she hadn't received the marriage match she had desired—the one she thought she would be given. Even since her schooldays Daphne had designs on being Lady Riddle. But when that possibility flew from her grasp, she worried what match would be made for her.

She hadn't been kept in the dark for long.

Once Lord Greengrass informed her after the ball she was to marry the Minister, she should have been thrilled—it was a fantastic match. Gellert Grindelwald was the most powerful wizard in the world, and he'd chosen her to be his wife. Her reaction should have been a celebratory one, but it wasn't. For some reason, Daphne could not bring herself to be happy.

Actually, she had thrown quite the fit, to Lord Greengrass' horror.

He and her cousin Cygnus tried in vain to calm her. But Daphne would not be consoled. They'd most likely assumed it was because Daphne still had feelings for Lord Riddle, but that was hardly the case.

As enigmatic, accomplished, and skillful as Lord Riddle was, there was a quality about him that struck fear in everyone that encountered him. Daphne was a clever girl; she had quickly learned how to act around the foreboding wizard. His friends were really more or less his followers. He preferred to have others obedient to him at all times. He surrounded himself with clever and competent people and cared not for the frivolity beyond what was expected of him in Pureblood culture.

Despite that fact, he was an expert lover.

Truthfully, he was a master in the bedroom and could make any girl forget her name. There was no question Daphne had set her desires on him along with half the witches from Hogwarts. Yet still, deep down, she wondered if she'd ever be able to handle the dark and fear-inspiring wizard. She would have probably been handled herself, becoming more of a servant than a wife or equal. No one stepped to Tom Marvolo Riddle.

 _Well, except that impertinent little wife of his_. She suppressed a chuckle at the thought of Lady Riddle. She seemed to be navigating her new role with ease. If Daphne had been a nice girl, she would even give kudos to the witch—she seemed stronger than Daphne herself ever could have been. _But they all break down eventually and Hermione Riddle will too._

Let her father and Cygnus think she was out of sorts due to Lord Riddle. She had long learned she could get what she wanted from either of the men in her life. With no mother to watch over her and learn from for some time now, Daphne had simply done whatever she pleased, pushing the boundaries of what she could get away with.

As a Pureblood witch from the Sacred 28, there was _much_ she could get away with.

Staying the meek, little virgin was not necessary. She was the only daughter of the notorious Greengrass family and could have as much fun as the other girls in school. And fun she had had. Until Tom had entered her life and consumed it. But now, it was another dark haired wizard that had caught her eye. A wizard she had watched from afar during her school years.

He was witty, amusing, and undeniably handsome. He made Daphne laugh as many others could not. He was an excellent dancer and she had found herself getting lost in his skillful movements, drunk on their proximity as they'd danced the night away. She had forgotten all her problems, her designs on revenge, when she was in his arms. And then at the Quidditch match, she should have been rooting for the wizards from her house but could not bring herself to. Silently, she was cheering for _his_ team to win, despite that wretched Weasley girl also being on the team.

Daphne could feel the tears stinging her eyes once more. She leaned her forehead on the window in despair. She had thought she could have her pick of any wizard after her time with Riddle. She thought she had time to develop feelings and select a husband. Yet, it would seem the choice was being made for her.

Distracted, she noticed an unfamiliar black barn owl coming towards her window. Getting up, she withdrew her wand and flourished it, opening the window. The owl came in and deposited a tiny scroll in her hand before perching loftily on the window sill.

With shaky fingers, she unrolled the parchment, excitement coursing through her at the unfamiliar script. Tears blurred her vision only to be quickly brushed away so she could read the missive.

 _Dearest Daphne,_

 _Please, I need to see you. Meet me in the forest at noon tomorrow? You know the spot. Send Caspian with your reply. At the ball and then at Quidditch, I know we made a connection and I must speak to you._

 _S.B._

Looking up at the barn owl with wide eyes, Daphne quickly scrawled her answer on the parchment and affixed it to the owl's foot.

"Argh," she yelped as the owl bit her. "You little brat. I was going to give you a treat you know." She paused before retrieving the treat anyway. "On second thought, I will anyway—I do want you to come back, Caspian."

She watched as the owl flew off towards the forest. For the first time, hope flared alive in her chest.

 **000**

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry greeted excitedly.

"Harry," He pleasantly returned.

Albus Dumbledore came through the Floo at the Burrow saying his hellos to everyone gathered. There were not many people at Headquarters—only Sirius, Ron, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Ginny, and himself.

"How's life on the run?" Arthur inquired jovially.

"Surprisingly liberating," Albus answered. "Though it sickens me, I'm unable to thwart the Minister's agenda at the school any longer."

"I hear they are teaching the children to practice the Imperius on each other," Molly remarked, her tone thick with worry.

"Ugh, what is this world coming to?" Fleur declared.

"Yes, it's true," Albus confirmed. "For years the Ministry would send the curriculum they wanted to see implemented at Hogwarts. I was able to have the final say then, but the Ministry has become too powerful. And now that I am no longer Headmaster, there is not much I can do."

"We're going to have to make our move soon," Sirius proposed passionately. "The situation is spiraling out of control."

"Professor," called Harry. "Were you successful in treating with the giants? Our entail says Riddle and his men will be trying to secure them to their side soon."

"Well, he should have been sooner. Hagrid and I made it there first. And, it was difficult, but I believe we have added to our ranks."

"That's wonderful news," said Molly. "Oh Albus, do you really think there will be a full out battle?"

"It's looking that way, I'm afraid," Albus answered. "The Ministry is becoming far too powerful. Do you know they are finding a way to be notified when a magical being is born? It was something we were pushing for in the early days. How easy would it be to send out welcome letters to potential students if the Ministry knew when a new witch or wizard entered this world? Obviously this would provide a huge risk to Muggleborns."

"They could be slaughtered at birth," Bill sneered, a look of disgust on his face,

"That's horrible," cried Harry. "Surely the rest of the wizarding world will not stand for it?"

"I'm afraid they may," Albus said gravely. "The magical world has been conditioned to believe they are the superior race and Muggleborns pose a threat to their magic. It would not surprise me if they sit idly by."

"So there will be a battle, then," Sirius said, nodding. "That's fine—we are ready for it."

"First and foremost, we must attack Riddle and his men," Albus said. "They are paramount in enforcing Grindelwald's agenda. Once they are eradicated, we can face a weaker, demoralized Grindelwald and McNair."

The group looked around at each other uneasily as a moment of awkwardness ensued.

"What is it?" asked Albus.

"Well, you see, there've been some developments," answered Arthur.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Riddle has gotten himself married."

"And?"

"To Mildred Hermione Lestrange."

"The Lestranges are a vicious family," Albus said, uncharacteristically harsh. "I'd say they are well-suited."

"Hermione isn't vicious," Ginny said defensively. "She's one of my best friends, actually."

"A trick," Albus dismissed. "No one can be married to Riddle and not be either as horrible as him or controlled by him."

"Hermione is not controlled by him—we've seen her openly defy Riddle," Harry said quietly.

"Yes," Ginny agreed. "She invited us to her wedding, to the Greengrass Ball, to Quidditch…despite her husband's reservations about being seen with us. He's even been being…well, nice."

"Nice?"

"Well, yes."

"And you can't see that it's a trap? It's most likely a way for Riddle to keep his enemies close."

They all looked around skeptically at each other.

"We were thinking of approaching Hermione, actually," Harry said.

"Yes," Ginny agreed. "She doesn't talk like your average Pureblood. There's definitely something about her. I think she believes in the things we do."

"I would suggest caution," Albus advised. "Use discretion when dealing with any family of Riddle or the Lestranges. It's too bad I cannot meet the girl myself."

"Maybe you can," Ginny suggested.

"That's far too risky," Fleur said. "If she turns out to be a spy, she could turn us in."

"Perhaps we can work out a way," Albus said, stroking his beard. "Until then, we must continue down our course." The others nodded in unison. "The day will come when I will have to duel the Minister. Riddle must be taken care of before then, in one way or another. I fear if we do not make our stand soon, it may be too late."

 **000**

An enraged Tom stormed the halls of the Manor until he reached the door of his insolent wife's room.

It had taken him longer than he cared to admit to break free of the ropes and retrieve his wand. He'd tried a wandless _Accio_ but was furious when the wand did not come to him. He'd practiced wandless magic before and was better than some, but clearly, not better than Hermione. He knew the spell was likely not working due to his angered state and restrained hands but was having trouble regaining his calm.

Finally, he had shouted, "Hokey!"

The house elf appeared with a pop directly in front of him. The elf recoiled once she took in Tom's countenance.

"M-master sent for Hokey?"

"Get me out of this," he demanded.

With a snap of her fingers, the ropes released and Tom stepped away from the fallen bindings, only to straighten his collar as elegantly as possible.

" _Accio_ wand," he called haughtily, moving his hand in a half circle. Immediately, his wand flew to his outstretched fingers. He was pleased to have been able to perform the summoning spell wandlessly but vexed he could not do so with his hands restricted. However at ease he was with non-verbal magic, he realized he'd need to up the ante with his wandless skills with Hermione around.

With renewed fury, he turned in the direction she'd just recently fled.

"Is Hokey dismissed?" she asked fearfully.

"Yes," he waved his hand carelessly. "You may go." He trudged off in her direction.

He soon found himself at Hermione's door. He smirked cruelly when he sensed her wards. Summoning his power, he let it envelop him before reaching for her door knob. He was sent flying back into the wall behind him as if he'd been hit with a knock-back jinx. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he wondered how many spells she'd put on her door.

He was about to try again, when he noticed the breaching of his own property wards and sensed the familiar presence of Abraxas, Cas, and Rabastan.

 _I'll deal with you later,_ he promised darkly.

Throwing one last glance at the door he turned around to make his way to the entryway. He'd love nothing more than to pick off where he left off with his insufferable minx of a wife but it would have to wait—Ministerial business called. He must never again let the witch get the jump on him, she was remarkably competent at enticing him to let his guard down only to take him by surprise moments later—never again.

He fingered the vial in his pocket. Hopefully, the potion he brewed would come in handy. Giants could be rather difficult creatures to deal with and Tom was not one to go into a situation unprepared. However resistant they were to the Imperius, the vial of Gregory's Unctuous Unction should have an effect on the humanoids once deposited into their mead.

Giants were not known for their patience or sitting for long conversations, but the humanoids of Ben Alder were a more intelligent breed and it was important to secure their loyalty before the Resistance did. They could also cause a lot of trouble and it did not serve Tom's purposes to deal with angry giants. Even without the aid of magic, the beings were immensely powerful what with their raw strength. It would be much easier to have them believe he was a friend rather than a foe and that's what the potion would do.

He exited the manor and was met by his followers who already had their brooms in hand. Donning his cloak, he reached for his broom before turning to face the group.

"Remember," Tom cautioned. "These beings do not have the patience for drawn-out conversations. It will be best to simplify things. They can barely speak English, after all."

"This will be a walk in the park," Rabastan exclaimed. "And if they don't agree to our terms, I'm sure a few _Stuepfies_ would make them receptive."

Tom shook his head darkly and his magic crackled with his annoyance.

"Fool," chided Abraxas. "Stunning spells bounce off of them. That's why it's important to bring gifts."

Cas held up a bottle. "Bungbarrel Spiced Mead—I came prepared."

"Well done, Cas," Tom said handing him the vial. "Now slip this potion into it and this should be a relatively smooth meeting."

Cas did as he was bid. Green smoke coiled out of the bottle as he poured the contents of the vial in. He recapped it and then waved his wand over the cap magically resealing the mead.

"Looks like we're ready." Abraxas remarked , positioning his broom between his legs. Cas placed the bottle in his robes before doing the same soon followed by Rabastan.

Tom positioned the broom and threw the hood of his cloak over his head as he turned to face the night.

"Let's ride."

 **000**


	12. Chapter 12: Piper Greyback

**A/N: Goodness, I feel horrible that it's been over two months since the last update! I must admit, I did get a bit distracted by some FB challenges. Also, I squandered my writing time this weekend thanks to this awesome fic-Reverse by Lady Moonglow (it's a dramione but Tom Riddle is also in it). I could not put it down and even though it is a WIP, it's 400K+ words. Stellar read and I highly recommend it! Not only that but life has been busy! I'm looking forward to the summer as I'll be taking some time off work. I'm going to check out the new WWoHP in Hollywood! I actually got to meet Tom Felton at Planet Comiccon in Kansas City this past weekend. He's pretty awesome and incredibly nice! Now that all _that_ fun is over, I am hoping to pay some much needed attention to my WIP's. One is almost finished, which means I'll be able to alternate between this one and my dramione story which should make for faster updates. That is, unless any other plunnie's attack me!**

 **Beta Love: ReverseUniverse**

 **Thank you to those that have followed and favorited, and also the reviewers: ImperialGoddess-123 , tneha, kadalina69 , mega700201, annaea3077, marzipan4, Annamonk, The Madame X , Roseweasley85 , biko, Dramionelover (more Draco, not so much dramione), Brewer, slytherin, and the guests!**

 **Happy reading and please let me know what you think!**

* * *

 **000**

"Mildy, I told you not to tamper with his wards," Bellatrix whispered urgently. "You shouldn't even be touching these volumes."

Hermione shot Bellatrix a look before deliberately reaching for a heavy tome and grabbing it. " _Magick Moste Evile_ ," she read, flipping the book open. "Not exactly light reading."

"Mildy!" Bellatrix bolted upright from her seat in the study, making to grab for the book. "Put it down this instant. If Lord Riddle were to see you with his private belongings…"

Hermione wrenched the book from her fingers. Ever since the previous night , she had grown very interested in finding out more about her husband. Each day, she was finding it harder and harder to believe that she had not heard of him in the future. She had come into contact with so many witches and wizards in this time that she had at least heard or read was familiar with the notorious families and even some of the individual family members. So how was it possible for her to have never heard of Riddle? Why hadn't he taken the Gaunt name? Who was Riddle, really?

Now that Tom had left for his mission, Hermione was free to peruse his library and investigate this mysterious man. Certainly there must be some clues. She'd intended to start with his family history. Sadly, that endeavor was did, however, find a warded shelf. Her curiosity was piqued at the discovery. She itched to get her fingers on those protected books.

The powerful wards surrounding the volumes were tangible, much akin to the ancient Malfoy wards. This fact didn't deter her in the least—it only seemed to increase her desire to get her hands on them.

There was no point in keeping up the pretense with Bellatrix. Her mother witnessed the way she defied Tom before and during the ball. It had to be clear to Bellatrix by now that Hermione would not be tiptoeing around her new husband. Her mother's concerns fell on a deaf ear. And really, why couldn't she look through a few books? She was the lady of this house! She would do so regardless of if Tom was present..

"Lord Riddle is busy being the Minister's lap-dog, mother. He won't be back for a while, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Bellatrix was clearly agitated, bouncing from foot to foot. "They were warded for a reason, Mildy!"

Hermione did not pay her any mind. Instead, she read aloud, " _Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction_ -." She felt the book fly out of her hands.

She quickly glanced over to see her mother snapping the book shut and placing it carefully back on the shelf before finally resheathing her wand. "Do not lay a finger on these again! I'm warning you!"

"How can you demand that of me?" Hermione inhaled, a last minute attempt to get a grip on her inner turmoil. _He has a book on horcruxes? Why ever would he keep something so dark in the house? What if these are the same books that some of the dark wizards from my time got their information from? I'm sure they are quite rare. Was it possible her mother knew of wizards, even now, putting this knowledge to use?_ She trusted Bellatrix, but still...it would never do to show she knew of something so dark. She was only just getting to know the woman, after all. "Mother, what is a horcrux?"

"How should I know?" Bellatrix sputtered. "I'm sure it's nothing a lady needs to know _anything_ about."

"Really? That's odd, coming from you. Usually, you're not one to withhold knowledge. What's so special about this?"

"It's none of our business and you need to stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. You may be… _amusing_ Tom now. Nevertheless, it will quickly become very unamusing if you keep pushing him. I forbid you from even touching these books."

"But I didn't even get to look at _Secrets of the Darkest Arts_!" Hermione whined.

"Nor shall you." Bellatrix grabbed Hermione by the wrist and pulled her, quite forcefully, out of the study. She fixed her with an accusatory glare. "You said you wanted to find a book on Charms."

Hermione sauntered over to the table stacked with books. She picked one up and held it up for Bellatrix to see. "I forgot. I already found this one, _Extreme Incantations_."

"Busy yourself with that, then." Bellatrix sat down, attempting to regain her composure. Her faux daughter sat at her side, while delicately smoothing out her the invisible wrinkles in her gown.

"Where is that blasted house elf of yours? Won't you call it? I'm positively famished."

Hermione chuckled, content to see her mother was already back to her normal self. "Hokey," she called. The house elf appeared with a soft pop.

"Mistress sends for Hokey?" she inquired in her squeaky voice.

"I promise- you can call me Hermione."

Bellatrix let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't trouble yourself with these inferior creatures. They know nothing but to serve." The elf'swide eyes peered up at the dark-haired witch.

Hermione arched an eyebrow, a snarky remark dancing on the tip of her tongue only to be forced back down. "Hokey, would you _please_ bring us some refreshments? We'd very much appreciate it." She smiled warmly at the elf.

Hokey nodded eagerly, before snapping her fingers.A tray of mini sandwiches appeared before them. "Lemon scones for the missis?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Hokey also brought the ladies tea and filled their cups. Bellatrix began digging in heartily.

"You know," she said, in between mouthfuls. "You really should invite Lady Malfoy to tea, or even Lady Nott. It's very untoward that you haven't."

"Sorry, I hadn't thought to. Perhaps I'll invite both of them." _That should make for an enlightening afternoon._

Bellatrix hummed in approval.

Hermione could not stop thinking about those dark volumes, tucked away in her very own home no less! Surely there weren't many of these kinds of books. Frankly, she was surprised they weren't illegal. _Well, this is the era when dark wizards were on the rise_. Could she somehow destroy them? She would hate to harm anything with the written word. Still... it seemed like a worthwhile action if it thwarted future dark , how could she know how many copies were out there? Maybe if she had an inkling as to whom would be seeking them…

"Mother," Hermione began carefully.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I'm in the mood for something intriguing. What's the latest? Anymore, er…weddings coming up? Balls?" She took a tentative sip of tea before continuing. "Any word on the resistance? Oh! Who's up and coming in the Dark Arts?"

Bellatrix eyed her shrewdly before shrugging. "Can't think of anything," she muttered distractedly.

Hermione's face fell with disappointment.

"On second thought, I did hear something interesting."

"Oh?"

"That werewolf and his daughter moved back."

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. "Professor Lupin?"

"No, no. He's not the only werewolf, silly. Fenrir Greyback."

Her mind flew back to tales of the vicious werewolves that the Ministry had employed to track Muggleborns. Most just wanted to live in peace, but there were others, like Willow the Wicked, who wanted _war_. "Hm, haven't heard of him. Where are they staying? Perhaps I should invite _them_ to tea."

Hermione was the epitome of innocence but a smirk broke through the facade at Bellatrix's dark piercing look.

"Word is," Bellatrix continued undeterred. "They're living straight through the forest over on the fringes of that Muggle village."

"By the river?" Bellatrix nodded, utterly uninterested as she plucked another scone from the tray. "You'd never guess how pretty the river is over there. Nice and calm with deep pools, like at the Burrow." Bellatrix wrinkled her nose at the mention of the Burrow.

"And?"

"And…it's perfect for a dip, don't you think?"

" _A dip_?" Bellatrix repeated aghast. "You can't possibly mean to swim in it!" Hermione fingered the gillyweed she had pilfered from Tom's private stores—that was exactly what she meant. She stayed quiet. "And how would you know, anyways?"

"I walk there regularly. I love exploring the forest—there's so much to see."

"Bah, you should be joining the ladies of your age and going shopping and to tea. Not gallivanting through the forests like some wayward fairy."

"Whatever you say, mother." Hermione went back to nibbling her sandwich. So new werewolf neighbors, that was interesting. Could they be potential dark witches or wizards? "Mother, I thought werewolves were sent to Azkaban?"

"Greyback has a waiver from the Minister—he works for him."

"That's entirely unfair and prejudiced. If one person can get a waiver, then everyone should be able to."

"There you go with your funny ideas again, Mildy. Besides, it's not like they still aren't ostracized from the rest of us."

"Oh that makes me feel loads better." Hermione crossed her arms angrily over her chest. _Still, it may be interesting to meet these 'ostracized neighbors' of mine._ She set her sandwich down distractedly. Her thoughts raced over the possibilities. She could only wonder what knowledge would be required to set things on a different eyed her mother thoughtfully. They had another successful lesson this morning. This time going over charms, specifically memory modification. Hermione felt she was improving greatly in her magical capability. Soon, it wouldn't be so dangerous to scope things out. For appearances sake, she should probably go to tea with more ladies. It was _proper etiquette_ after all.

She wondered idly when Tom would return. How long did such missions take? Was it a truly dangerous one? Whatever it was, she hoped it wasn't a blow to the resistance. Really, she needed to do more to ensure she foiled Grindelwald at every turn.

Bellatrix interrupted her silent musings. "Are you going to eat that?" She gestured to Hermione's half eaten sandwich.

"Go ahead." She smirked at the firecracker of a witch. This woman was really growing on her.

 **000**

Holding her wand over the fence as she strengthened her _Reparo_ , Piper Greyback tried hard not to relive the seconds she'd spent destroying said fence.

 _I simply must get my hands on some monkshood_ , she thought. _It's been ages since our supply of Wolfsbane Potion has run out._ Even if she did secure the rare plant, she was not sure she could brew it properly. It was a very tricky potion and she supposed she took it for granted she'd always have Peter and Harry to help her with it.

 _Peter_

It felt like it had been ages since she'd last seen her friends. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye to Peter, Harry and Sirius. Their move to Bulgaria had been an abrupt one. Really, she was surprised her father had friends in the city to turn to, given the amount of enemies he seemed to have acquired. She had them to thank for infecting her with lycanthropy at the tender age of six.

She had been terrified to attend Hogwarts no matter how much she had dreamed of going. Her father outright forbade it. At the time, he said that there was no way she would be able to keep her affliction a secret. If it wasn't for her mother and Headmaster Dumbledore, she would have never been able to receive a magical education.

Her mother Hope had been very adamant Piper not miss out on the opportunity. She had bravely defied her father ,even when it had meant her mother's own safety, by appealing directly to the Headmaster himself.

Somehow, Headmaster Dumbledore had managed to convince her father that Piper could safely attend Hogwarts without compromising the family secret. He had been right, of course. Piper looked back on the Hogwarts years as the best five years of her life.

The friends she'd made in Gryffindor were far too clever and attentive to not notice her absence every full moon that first year. Their reaction had surprised of shunning her, they did the unthinkable by accepting her for the way she was. Not only did they extend kindness to her despite her lycanthropy, but they also learned to join her in animal form—training to become Animagi themselves.

They were really quite wonderful.

Piper had never become close to other girls in her year. There was Ginevra, whom she was friendly with, but Piper was younger. The girls in her grade paid her hardly any mind. It was fine by her, as she had no desire for frivolity and artifice the girls of her age seemed to be obsessed with. She was there to _learn_.

One of the happiest days of her life was when she found out that she was a witch and could wield magic. She owed her mother so much for putting herself at risk so that Piper could learn magic.

At Hogwarts, it was only Sirius,with his jokes and friendly teasing, Harry, with his dangerous ideas and ability to push her intellectually, and Peter—her shoulder to cry on and the one whom she could tell anything to. They were the _only_ ones she wanted to spend her time with. She knew her female classmates found her behavior untoward, but they hardly cared about the mousy, quiet girl.

School had been an escape for her. She had felt bad leaving her mother alone to deal with her father, but she couldn't help but be selfish and relish in her newfound freedom. Going to classes and soaking up all she could during the day, running around with her friends at night, and then chaining herself up in the haunted shack...at least until Peter and Harry had come up with a potion.

The remedy they had created with the monkshood, a plant more plentiful and easier to find than it was in Bulgaria, at least by Hogwarts, was quite effective in lessening her lycanthropy symptoms during a full moon. She still turned, but she would be aware of her actions and didn't need to be chained. Sometimes she would just sleep through her transformation. Other times, she would run through the Forbidden Forest with her comrades.

At the very least, she wouldn't destroy things like she'd spent the last couple of years doing.

She looked on her school days fondly—a time before it had all went to hell. _Before my father went on his murderous rampage._ Piper cringed as she was brought back to the present. She had successfully mended the fence. _It's silly to care—what good has ever come from that?_

The truth was, she could only hurt those she cared about.

 _Like I hurt my mother._

 **000**

The sky looked like it could run forever. The fluffy clouds caught the colors of the setting sun, orange, red, and even purple. Tonks was lost in her wistful daydreaming.

"Nymphadora," Lady Malfoy bellowed. Tonks jolted to attention upon hearing the angry voice. Lady Malfoy looked down her nose at her while Lady Nott openly sneered. "How is your grandmother, Walpurga?"

"We haven't seen her since she'd fallen sick," Lady Nott said worriedly.

Tonks looked absently around the gaudy green and gold was oddly satisfying. She was thankful for the large windows that provided a great view of the English countryside and forest beyond.

Realizing she'd better answer lest she encourage their incessant prattling. Tonks placed her teacup down gingerly.

"I wouldn't know milady. She stays in her chambers. She only allows Kreacher to look after her."

Lady Malfoy pouted her lips in distaste. "You mean the Black family house elf? It's a shame my dear friend Walpurga should live out her days quartered away from society, with nothing but a perverse little beast to attend to her."

Tonks inwardly recoiled at the thought of her grandmother and her never-ending wailing. It brought back memories to when her own mother left, shunned away and pushed from the garish house in a calamitous rage by the Black family matriarch who at that time could do more than just scream and wail. If it hadn't been for Sirius, her time at Black Manor would be much more unbearable than it already was.

Thank goodness that she spent most her time at the Weasleys. Sirius would always take her along with him. However,now that she was of age in her Seventh Year at Hogwarts, she was not as grounded as she was before. _If only I did not have to suffer through these tea sessions._

"Poor Walpurga." Lady Nott carefully dabbed her lip with a napkin. "Having to suffer through bearing a Blood-traitor as a son. I pity the witch. And her daughter Andromeda running off with a Muggle. A horrible marr on the noble house of Black."

"Indeed," Lady Malfoy agreed. "At least she has Bellatrix. The other two might be a lost cause but Bella has done well for herself."

"A Black married to Lord Riddle," Lady Nott clasped her hands together excitedly. "Well, I suppose she is a Lestrange by name, but still. At least Walpurga has that to be thankful for."

Tonks wondered idly if she could go back to daydreaming, would the women even notice?

"Speaking of which, it's high time you made a match for Cassiel."

"Don't I know it? The boy is quite the wild one. He needs to be reined in, that's for sure. A good, Pureblood woman will do him well."

"What about Olive Hornby?"

"Betrothed to Diggory, I think."

"Shame."

Tonks eyes wandered to the photograph on the mantel. Cassiel was in his Quidditch uniform, hovering on his broomstick in the moving image. He had the golden snitch in his grasp. He really did cut a fine figure in his Quidditch robes. She remembered watching him from the Hufflepuff stands. He'd rarely speak to her, an occasion that only occurred when she had the misfortune to be caught in his path.

 _Tonks was hurrying along through the corridors as she made her way to her Second Year Herbology class. She heard the raucous group of Fifth Years before she saw them._

 _Feeling anxiety well up, she rounded the corner quickly endeavoring to speed through the Slytherin boys before they noticed her. She collided straight into Cassiel Nott. She teetered precariously attempting to regain her balance amid the snickers of Malfoy and Lestrange as she tipped her head back, way back to take in the towering visage that was Cassiel Nott._

 _He was frowning down at her, seemingly angered to have been jostled. Even when his jaw was set in an angry sneer, he still looked quite debonair. Dirty blond locks fell over his piercing blue eyes. Tonks gulped as she found herself trapped in his menacing stare._

" _Oi, Cas," Lestrange taunted. "Are you going to let the dog's cousin nearly knock you over like that?"_

 _He looked at her for a scant few seconds more before the intensity of his gaze lessened and he schooled his features with practiced ease._

" _The filthy Half-Blood isn't worth my time," he muttered carelessly._

 _Tonks sped away, her feet heavy, as tears threatened to escape her eyes thanks to his derogatory comment. She made it a point to never be in his way again if she could help it._ She was very good about making herself invisible. By her Third Year, she was sure Nott and his friends didn't even know her name. _Until the night of the_ _Masquerade Ball._

Lady Riddle and her friend Ginevra had made odd choices in their costumes that night, yet Tonks had to admit she very much liked it.

At the ball, she had caught _his_ attention. She had felt the warmth of his dark blue gaze on her off and on the entire night. She pushed away the pleased yet confused feelings that had surfaced as a result of it.

"Yes." Lady Nott stroked her chin pensively and the motion brought Tonks back to the present. "Though I had thought Pansy Parkinson might be a more suitable match."

"Don't even think on it, Penelope." Lady Nott blanched at the reprieve. "With Daphne off the market, that only leaves Pansy for Abraxas." She fixed her with an authoritative glare before continuing. "I had thought now that dear Tom had settled down, our boys may follow suite."

"Well, who knows. These days it seems like the Minister is more apt to make a match than allow the parents to see to it."

"Watch your mouth, Penelope. Though...you may very well be correct. Minister Grindelwald does seem to be doing that as of late."

"At least for his close followers."

Lady Malfoy sipped her tea distractedly before looking Tonks' way. "The question is, who will the Minister marry you off to?"

"She's a Half-blood." Lady Nott waved her hand dismissively. "No reputable wizard would settle, Celestina."

"Yes, but she _did_ secure a waiver and she _is_ a Black. Besides…" Lady Malfoy shifted uncomfortably. "There are, er, exceptions, as we well know."

"I suppose you're right." Lady Nott turned her gaze squarely on Tonks. "Perhaps the Minister will marry you to that werewolf." The elderly witches snickered at this while Tonks inwardly cringed. _I'm only two years younger than his daughter._

"Well, whatever the Minister decides, I hope he does so soon."

"True enough," Lady Nott agreed. "Children should not be idle."

Who would the Minister force her to be with? The thought was staggering. She'd rather marry her cousin Sirius than a number of eligible wizards. Tonks had to mentally shake herself when she found her gaze wandering over to Cassiel's portrait once more.

 **000**


	13. Chapter 13: An Unconventional Healing

**A/N: Just so everyone knows, this story is not abandoned! I'm just super busy and writing time is scarce to come by. Maybe next time I can simply write the whole story out first, and then post on a regular schedule! I hate to keep people waiting. But then I love reading the reviews as I go along, it's super motivating. We'll see! At this point, all I can do is wrap up my WIP's and write when I can. Bear with me C:**

 **I made some aesthetics for the side pairings in this story that I kind of fell in love with. Check out my photobucket, AO3, or FB if you'd like to see them. Gives you a hint of the pairings, though I know you can probably guess by now.**

 **A big thanks to Duchess_of_Strumpetness who took a quick look-see of this chapter while LeanaM is playing catch up on chapter 8!**

 **Thanks so much to those that have followed and favorites, and the reviewers: Annamonk, PinkSlytherin, tneha (not very long at all!), mega700201, Alytiger, rmaruu, ThisShipIsReal, and the guests!**

 **000**

The forest beckoned Piper forward, calling to her as if it was a living, breathing entity. In truth, it was. There was so much life in the forest, from the wild herbs and edibles to the magical creatures and beasts that called the forest home. She admired the ancient trees with their mahogany trunks and lush leaves. The organic smell of compositing roots and fallen trees gave off a woodsy smell that made her nostrils flare appreciatively.

She continued on, lighthearted, skipping over gnarled and twisted tree roots until she came upon a glade where the trees fell away and she could see the river she so adored. Picking up her robes so they did not catch the fallen leaves, she rushed over to her favorite spot where the goosegrass grew wild.

Falling to her knees, Piper began plucking the potion ingredient and stuffing it into the pockets of her robes.

There was something about the forest that brought her peace, no matter what she was feeling. It was an escape, and she could waste hours there, especially by the clear and crisp blue river she so adored.

The Muggle village she resided in was actually quite lovely, compared to the hovel she'd shared with her father in Bulgaria. That village was vastly over populated and reeked of farm animals. Piper had yearned for land with which she could run freely, especially for when she turned, but sandwiched between villages, it was not a possibility. She had to resort to chaining herself in the tiny basement and began to dread each full moon.

Now things were much easier back home. Her father was always away on Ministry business and the Muggles that lived by her were mostly kind towards the motherless new girl. She had anonymity and didn't need to worry about witches and wizards staring down their noses at her just because of who her father was.

Truthfully, she found it annoyingly hypocritical that her family should be snubbed by the wizarding community, especially when that same community did not think twice about calling on her father for his services.

It didn't matter; the only ones she wanted to see, she couldn't, because she would just risk hurting them anyway or compromising their standing in the wizarding world by being associated with her. She wondered if Peter, Harry, and Sirius even thought about her anymore. Perhaps she could seek out Harry, seeing as he was already undesirable number one and had nothing to lose, only she had no idea where her fugitive friend had run off to. She hoped he was safe and that he continued to be careful.

Standing up, she dusted off her robes and headed towards the edge of the river where she could usually find star grass growing.

She heard the call of a phoenix and sighed as she looked up towards the sky, basking in the glow of the sun on her face. She continued down the river's edge until she spotted the magical plant. She knelt down eagerly and began plucking the valuable leaves from the stems.

As much as she loved the forest and escaping into it whenever she could, she also loved her room she had converted to a tiny Potions Chamber. It reminded her of being Sirius' potions partner back at Hogwarts, he had taught her much. She would ward it shut when she was in there so as not to be disturbed by her father, especially if he was on a rampage. There was something about brewing potions that was gratifying and gave her a sense of fulfillment at the end of the day.

The meager supplies she'd been able to pilfer over the years left a lot to be desired, but she managed to make good use out of her pewter cauldron, and find most of her ingredients herself, since the Apothecary was far too expensive.

She was just about to run her fingers along the river bottom to look for lithe shells when she jumped at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Hello," said a girl, sitting cross-legged on a rock in the middle of the easy flowing river. Piper's eyes widened in shock at the sight of her. The girl was pretty, to be sure, with honey brown locks of hair piled high and messy above her head. Her face was free of artifice but her eyelashes framed her eyes thickly and her lips were quirked in a friendly smile. What had surprised Piper, was that the girl was drenched in her cream colored frock, which suggested she had been swimming.

"Good-Godric," Piper blurted before she could stop herself. "Did you actually swim to that rock, in your dress?"

"Yes, I know," the girl said, waving her hand dismissively. "They really should invent something more suitable for water. Loads of material just isn't practical."

Piper nodded dumbly in agreement, even though that hadn't been what she'd been thinking at all.

"I'm Hermione," she greeted, shifting her legs to the side in a more relaxing position on the rock. "Hermione Riddle."

"Riddle," Piper sputtered, fiddling with her fingers uncomfortably.

"Yes, that's right." Hermione eyed her thoughtfully, with intelligent brown eyes. "I assume you're a witch, too."

"Yes." Piper gave a hasty curtsy. "I hadn't realized you took to roaming the forest, Lady Riddle. I'll stay away. Sorry for disturbing you." She turned to leave.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said, halting Piper in her tracks. She couldn't understand why Hermione was still talking to her. "I'm sure the forest is big enough for the both of us. You didn't tell me your name?"

"Piper Greyback." _Now she will realize who I am and won't bother trying to speak to me any longer._

The petite witch nodded, a flicker of recognition passing over her features. "That's right, my mother said we had new neighbors. As I understand it, this forest borders Riddle Manor, Black Manor, Malfoy Manor, Greengrass Manor, the Burrow and the village just that way," she gestured to the east, "to say nothing of the lake even further away and all the manors on it. I think it's safe to say we share the forest with a great many people."

Piper was stumped. She didn't need the geography lesson. She already knew of all the great houses that bordered the forest and lake. What she didn't know is why a lady from one of the great houses would lower herself to address her.

"I suppose that's right," Piper agreed hesitantly. "If I may, my lady, how did you know I was a witch?"

Hermione fixed Piper with a disarming smile that actually had the effect of making her feel even more alarmed. The odd witch nodded to magical plant. "I see you're collecting star grass. I assume it's to make Star Grass Salve?"

Piper felt her eyes widening even more and she was sure she looked positively bug-eyed at that point. "Yes. My lady does know her potions."

"Not half as well as my husband, but I'm learning. And please, call me Hermione. What do you prefer to go by, Miss Greyback?"

"Oh no—Miss Greyback is my mother. Piper is fine."

"Piper is lovely. And I'm so sorry not to have invited your family to my wedding. That wasn't very neighborly of me."

Piper felt slightly faint. "Please don't concern yourself with it, my-, I mean, _Hermione_. And it's just my father and I. We only moved back here this past month."

"Moved back, so you lived here before?"

"Yes, as a child." Piper tucked her head demurely.

"You must have attended Hogwarts, then."

Piper nodded.

"I do so envy you. I was homeschooled by my parents, though I would have much preferred attending school. It would sure have helped me right about now, I should say."

Piper furrowed her brows in confusion, curiosity getting the best of her and forcing her to ask, "What were you doing on that rock?"

"Er, just meditating." Hermione looked slightly embarrassed and a bit uncomfortably which befuddled Piper even more. _Why would she care about what I think?_ Recovering, the witch went on to explain, "I find it very helpful to meditate when trying to come up with...new spells and such." She smiled quietly to herself and Piper had the odd idea the girl was keeping a secret.

"Oh."

"It's nice to see a fellow forest-lover," Hermione said brightly. "Perhaps I can join you next time. I'm always looking to fill my husband's stores, before he notices when anything goes missing." She added the last part slyly.

"Hermione, I get the feeling you're new around here."

"Is it so obvious?"

"It's just that I should probably tell you, we are of different stations, you and I. It would probably be better for you if we weren't seen together."

Hermione scoffed at that. "Don't be silly. We're both witches aren't we?"

Piper could only nod, feeling rather dumbstruck.

"Perhaps Muggles sort themselves by station, but I think it horribly daft. Those of us in the wizarding community should hold ourselves to a higher standard, don't you think? I don't believe that archaic Muggle tradition should really apply to _us_."

"Oh."

"Besides, I don't have very many friends, being new here, you see. There's Ginevra from the Burrow, but I could always use more."

"You know Ginny?"

"Yes!" Hermione nodded excitedly. "She and I attend tea together often, you should join us, sometime."

"I can't," Piper said, backing away as sudden panic set in.

"Oh, you don't have to," Hermione said, standing up, looking like she was going to try and calm Piper as if she was a wild centaur. "Potion ingredient gatherings, for now."

Gathering her bearings, Piper took a deep breath before giving a slight nod.

Hermione grinned and Piper marveled at how easy the witch could smile. She heard the sound of a phoenix call once more and both girls turned to face the tree the sound came from.

"That bird's been there the whole time, watching me, occasionally."

"It's a phoenix."

"Oh, are they common here?"

"No."

"It's eyes are so intelligent, like as if it's a human's eyes or something."

"Phoenixes are very intelligent," Piper enlightened her. She turned back to face Hermione. "I have to be going. My father may be home soon and he'll expect dinner."

"Oh, alright. I'll owl you?"

"That would be lovely." Piper gave a small curtsey and Hermione waved goodbye. Piper raised her eyebrows. This was not what she was expecting during her stroll through the woods.

As she left, her mind wandered to when she first saw Hermione sitting on the rock. It reminded her of when her boys mediated in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, training to become illegal Animagi.

 **000**

"Sirius," Daphne cried as she ran into the raven-haired wizard's outstretched arms. She threw her arms around his neck and jumped up into his grip. He held her easily and cradled her tightly to him.

Daphne squeezed her eyes shut, forgetting her shyness as she relished in the feel of her wizard's comforting embrace.

"Daph," he said throatily. "Did you miss me, kitten?"

"Of course you know I did." She slapped him in the arm playfully. "But we shouldn't have met like this. What if we're seen?"

"Then it will be worth it as long as I'm here with you."

"I'm serious," Daphne chided, annoyance and concern flickering across her pretty features as she raised the hood of her cloak that had fallen during their exchange.

"I'm always Sirius," he bit back, playfully.

Daphne sighed in exasperation—he was incorrigible!

"Honestly, Sirius. You sent for me, is it too much to hope you have a plan? That you will speak to my father? Convince him to decline the marriage proposal?"

He ran his hands soothingly over her silk-covered arms and dropped them to her shapely hips. "Kitten, you know there's no way to dissuade Lord Greengrass once he's made up his mind."

She pressed her lips into a petulant line. "You won't even try?"

"Be reasonable, Daph. I'm the filthy blood-traitor, the wizard everyone loves to hate. Your father wouldn't even humor me for a moment. Given that he's already clenched the most sought after marriage proposal a father could hope to get for his daughter. I wouldn't be surprised if he locked you away in the manor until the marriage ceremony."

Daphne pouted prettily. She had already surmised that Sirius was unlike other wizards she had dated. They'd watched each other from afar for years with never either of them making a move. They were on two separate sides, politically, and it wasn't until her masquerade that something finally transpired between the two of them.

When he'd asked her to dance, Daphne had been caught up glaring at the newly dubbed Lady Riddle, watching the young witch as she bantered playfully with her new husband. Daphne deplored the way Hermione had seemed completely at ease where Lord Riddle was concerned—didn't the silly bint know who she was dealing with?

Yet as good as Riddle was at playing people like a fiddle, his young wife seemed to be equally gifted.

Daphne hated it. Jealousy raged like a wild storm inside her. Her eyes had flitted about madly as she sought out the wizard who she could take her aggression out on that evening.

She didn't have to look far, as Sirius Black was already approaching her.

She was immediately captured in his heated gaze, his warm silver eyes calling to the storm brewing inside her. Her breath caught as she turned fully to face him, tilting her head as she appraised the known Blood-traitor she had scarcely deigned to speak to before.

"Care to dance?" He'd asked her, extending his hand like the perfect gentlemen.

Daphne had said nothing as she took the hand he offered, walking with him easily out and into the dance floor. She stared up at him challengingly, willing him to make this a night she would never forget.

Time had passed quickly, only interrupted by the horrid duel with Weasley, but then they'd danced once more, and she forgot her cares as she became enamored with the handsome, witty, and caring wizard.

He made her shy...and that was very unlike her.

He made her laugh, _truly laugh_ , absent false facades. He said her laugh was beautiful and Daphne found herself at a loss for words.

Despite her nervousness, they had shared their first kiss that evening.

It was when Potter had been spotted that it had happened. The ballroom had erupted into chaos and Daphne had made to join her father when Sirius had grabbed her hand, spinning her to back her against the wall, caging her with both hands, as if he expected her to escape, before proceeding to snog her soundly.

When she made no move to escape, even gripping his biceps as she arched her neck to kiss him back with equal fervor, he dropped his hands to clutch her hips making her keen in approval.

He had pulled back from her then, staring at her with a mix of confusion and delight. She thought he may try to leave and Daphne wasn't having that. She grabbed the startled wizard by the shoulders and pulled him behind the column where they were safely encased in shadows. The frenzy of activity faded around them as she captured his lips, wasting no time in kissing him hard and fierce.

Daphne did not know if she'd ever have a chance to again and she found the thought surprisingly heart breaking.

Before things could escalate further, she'd pulled away from him at the sound of Cygnus calling her.

"That's my cousin," she had panted, noticing the way Sirius' lips were swollen from their kissing. "I've got to go," she said sadly.

Sirius watched her back further away from him, meaning to rejoin the crowd. She could scarcely focus with stars clouding her eyes, and a lump had formed in her throat.

She'd turned and fled, joining her cousin as if nothing had transpired. But since then, she'd been unable to shake the off the odd feelings he'd stirred in her. And when she'd watched him during the match, and seen him throw sneaky glances her way, the feelings only intensified tenfold.

Feeling emboldened, she reached up to stroke his cheek. "Am I not worth the risk, Sirius?" she asked quietly.

He put his large hand over hers and tilted his head to lean into her touch. "You're worth everything," he said throatily.

Daphne grinned, watching his gray eyes as they darkened with mischief and.. _.desire_.

He continued, "That's why I asked you to meet me." Sirius hesitated briefly, as if struggling to find the right words. "There is one way for us to be together."

He gazed at her questioningly. Daphne felt suddenly cautious, a chill creeping up her spine. "How?" She winced at the husky tone of her voice.

"You don't need anyone's permission to seek what you want, Daphne. You're a fierce, competent witch. No one can force you into a life you don't want."

"What are you saying, Sirius?"

"I'm saying," he paused and took a deep breath, "I'm saying, _run away with me_ , Daphne. There is no reason to let anyone else decide your life for you. Take control...and decide for yourself."

"You can't be ser-, sincere," she gasped.

"Why not?"

"I'm a Greengrass. You can't really expect me... _to give up all of that_...everything that comes with it...my title, my family name, the expectations...it's a big thing, Sirius." She ran a raggard hand through her sleek, black hair.

"Is that what defines you? The Greengrass name?"

"No, it's not that, it's...you wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't?" His eyes had darkened with displeasure, looking dilated in the dim moonlight. "Who could understand more than me? Haven't I given up everything that comes with being a Black?"

"But that's just...a phase. You can't really mean to still believe that...that Muggles have _rights_ , or that even Muggleborns do. You're a Pureblood, Sirius. Surely you'll do what is expected of you."

He broke his grip on her hips and took a step away from her. Daphne felt immediately cold and distant. "It's not a _phase_ ," he snarled the word as if it offended him. "It's who I am, what I believe...it's an integral part of who I am. I had thought that since...since you were willing to...to be with me, that you had finally learned to see past that."

" _See past that_? Sirius, you made a mistake, that's all it is. And I certainly can't throw away my namesake, to go, what? Be a pauper? Fight a war with you? Is that what you had expected?"

"I don't expect anything," he sneered.

"Surely you realize there's no point in fighting? It would be a slaughter. You must know this."

Daphne could tell by the stiff way in which he carried himself, _so guarded_ , he no longer trusted her, and he definitely intended on fighting.

She shook her head in disbelief. " _No_ ," she rasped.

"Miss Greengrass." His tone was cordial and aloof. "I see now that this has all been a colossal waste of time. It's clear our business here is finished. I bid you goodnight."

Daphne started as Sirius quickly morphed, right before her eyes, into a large, black dog. She clasped her hand over her mouth as she watched him leap off into the woods and jump in between the trees. She found herself suddenly alone as she peered sadly into the spot where he had disappeared.

She glanced back towards her Manor, the lights from the outdoor garden coupled with the moonlight highlighting the large house.

She felt more torn than ever. Never had she realized what Sirius would ask of her tonight; it was maddening! That he could even suggest it was mind boggling. She had hoped Sirius would change for her, that he would make up with his mother and attempt to ask for her hand like a Proper Pureblood, before it was too late. She was sure her father could be dissuaded if she were to convince him.

But now, her dreams were crushed.

Sirius had shown vulnerability, but he'd asked too much of her.

Now she would have to come to terms with marrying Lord Grindelwald, there was no other alternative, at this point. He had been her last hope. What was more, becoming Lady Grindelwald would mean she would forever be on opposite sides as Sirius. She would probably bear witness to her new husband crushing her old love and everything he stood for.

 **000**

"What news do you bring, McNair?" Gellert drummed his fingers impatiently over his desk as he waited to hear report from his second in command.

"Greyback has informed us that the Bulgarian Minister will step down and yield his territory to you while backing your regime fully. He does expect to be given a title in the international Ministry," McNair informed him.

"Yes, yes, well of course he does. What else?"

"We received a very similar report from the Russian Ministry."

"Good, very good," he praised. "It won't be long until we can fully come out to the Muggles, and put them in their proper place."

McNair nodded. "America is proving difficult, MACUSA especially."

"How so?"

"The young Ministry is divided, it would seem. There really aren't Purebloods to speak of, considering that most of the wizards have migrated from Europe and other continents at some point and they were mostly Muggleborn as Purebloods tend to stay where their holdings are."

"What about the native North American wizards, many of them are Purebloods," Gellert argued.

"It would seem that's the issue. They go by Shamans or Spirit-walkers and they've long since lived side by side with humans as their...protectors," he sneered. "The others in the American Ministry are nearly all Muggleborns, not very concerned with blood prejudices, especially with the Muggle Civil war brewing. The only ones who have expressed interest in our side are magical bounty hunters and other such mercenaries."

"Well, if the Shamans will not take our side and we certainly have no use for the Mudbloods, it would seem the young country is against us...and doomed."

McNair inclined his head in understanding.

"We must first secure the other Ministries. Most of them see it as a fool's errand to stand against me. It should not take much longer now." Gellert felt a flicker of triumph. The British Ministry was the strongest in the world, no other Ministry dare oppose them. "McNair, before you take your leave, any word from the Riddle camp?"

"They left to meet with the Gurgs two days ago...and haven't been heard from since." McNair peeled back his lips in a menacing smirk, revealing his yellowed teeth.

Gellert could not help but to smirk back. It would have been nice to secure the Mountain Gurg community of giants to his cause. It was unfortunate that it seemed the opposition had gotten there first, but whether the giants joined them, or the Riddle camp met their demise at the large humanoid's hands, either way was a win-win for Gellert.

"Pity."

 **000**

Flopping to her stomach and perching her book on a small pillow, Hermione adjusted her reading position and attempted, for the hundredth time, to distract herself from thinking about _him_ again.

As riveting as _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguartion_ was, her mind still wandered. Lounging in the Blue Room, she found her gaze often flicked to the entry hall, hoping for Tom's abrupt arrival. Surely he should have returned by now?

With a stab of guilt, she remembered how she had wished he would never return from his secret mission. She really shouldn't feel so bad about wishing such a thing, after all, the man had nearly Imperiused her to walk off of a balcony! Clearly he had no qualms seeing her in a dangerous situation, so why in Merlin's name should she care?

Tom made her blood boil—furiously! That he would even have the audacity to attempt to Crucio her, _again_ , and threaten her life, _again_ , only to follow it up with some mind-blowing snogging mere moments later. The nerve of the man! He clearly saw her as more of an object rather than an actual person worthy of respect. He may have learned to tolerate her in recent weeks, amuse her by allowing her to get her way from time to time, but when push came to shove he had proved he wasn't above using force on her.

She needed to remind herself not to forget it, either.

For the umpteenth time, she forced her attention away from Tom to focus on the text in front of her. _Human transfiguration can be used essentially to mimic the abilities of a Metamorhmagis_ , she read. Inexplicably, her mind wandered to the young witch she had met in the woods earlier that day.

Ever since speaking to her mother three days prior, she had hoped to come across the curious girl that was Piper Greyback. Perhaps her father would prove to be a lead in identifying future members of the Death Eaters she had come to loath in her time. The regime clearly had not made their presence known yet—that much was certain. But according to the timeline, many should be alive and currently living in Great Britain. Hermione really needed to make some progress there.

She giggled at the way she had alarmed the poor girl. It had seemed Piper was scandalized to have come by Lady Riddle, wet dress and all. Hermione could not bring herself to care of it looked improper or not. She knew that in the years to come, the Wizarding community would crumble along with their archaic views on stations and propriety, much sooner than any of them knew. Regardless if she caught flack for it, she knew she needed to pursue her learning above anything else.

Idly, she wondered why Piper had recoiled at the prospect of tea with Ginny. The jumpy little witch seemed to have known the youngest Weasley, surely she'd be happy to see her again? Perhaps she was just leery to see people, what with the news of her father's infection with lycanthropy becoming common knowledge? There must have been rumors swirling around even during the girl's Hogwarts years.

For the umpteenth time, Hermione tried to draw her attention back to the large tome that lay forgotten between her elbows. Resolving to finally get back into her reading, she was startled yet again at the sound of a pop followed by a gurgling sound coming from the parlor.

Hauling herself to her feet, she bolted from the the Blue Room in a very unladylike fashion, feeling suddenly tense as she anxiously made her way to the adjoining room, turning sharply into the parlor.

Her stomach wrenched violently at the sight that met her eyes.

Tom lie sprawled on his back, his body trembling, with blood seeping through his robes. He seemed to be choking on something, possibly blood. Her mind raced as panic inexplicably churned, dark and insidious, in the pit of her stomach.

Instinctively, Hermione clutched her wand and pointed it towards Tom's head. " _Anapneo_!"

He sputtered as his clogged throat was relieved of the blood that was clogging it. Rushing over, she dropped to her knees by his side, working frenetically to assess the damage.

"Good Merlin," her fingers flew incessantly over his body, unsure what to tackle first. "What have you gone and done, Tom?"

His eyes were screwed shut as he shook with pain. Hermione knew she simply had to calm herself if she had any hope of assisting him. Forcing her body to relax, she waved her wand over him and performed a diagnostic spell, cringing at all the injuries that popped up.

 _Damn. Four fractured ribs, a broken femur, Merlin—a collapsed lung! And what's this...he's been splinched?_

Muttering a nonverbal Diffindo, she magically ripped Tom's robe, coat, and vest to reveal his bare chest beneath, and better assess the damage. She recoiled at the way his chest rose and fell, accompanied by a wheezy, crackling noise. Sure enough, there was a nasty gash trailing along his side.

"How did you go and splinch yourself?"

His only answer was a gurgled moan. She immediately set to work attacking the worse of the wounds.

" _Brackium Emendo,"_ she said, pointing her wand at his thigh. Hermione immediately heard the cracking and shifting of the large bone as it set about mending itself. She repeated the spell over his ribs in the front and one on the posterior side. Even though the femoral bone was mended, there was still a wound from where the bone had pierced the skin and ripped through his trousers. "You've gone and got yourself a compound fracture," she lectured. "I'll have to stitch it up the Muggle way. _Accio Martha's sewing kit_."

Briefly, his eyes widened in alarm.

The Muggle needle and thread flew to her hand and she set it down. "Well, it's not my fault someone is too paranoid to leave their potions cabinet unlocked." She grabbed the cloth of his trousers with two hands and ripped the material further still. "There's only so much I can do with a wand. Serves you right." Picking up the needle, she threaded it. "Don't worry, I'll _Scorgify_ the wound first."

Hermione wasn't sure if Tom was hearing the words she spoke, but found it oddly comforting to speak out loud, just the same, and what was more—it helped her stay focused.

Muttering the cleaning charm under her breath, she set to work suturing the open gash on his leg, drawing on her experience tending to wounds as a child, and then a young woman. She could feel his body tense and wished she knew some numbing charm she could cast. "Now do you see why I badgered you for lessons? You never know when you may need to rely on someone other than yourself. Thank goodness I've been reading your charms books."

" _Obsignandum_ ," she cast, watching the way the sutures began to magically dissolve but the skin still held itself in place.

Wiping at her brow, she picked her wand back up and did some quick calculations on what to tackle next. He was still taking short, raspy breaths, and wracking her brain, she tried to remember the wand movement that went with the healing charm she'd read about only a few days prior.

Taking a stab in the dark, she raised her wand over his chest. " _Emendare Pulmonis_." A wispy, pink light shot out from the tip of her wand. Feeling emboldened, she gripped her wand harder, saying the spell with more confidence. " _Emendare Pulmonis_." The light expanded, shooting forth soothing, healing magic over his chest.

Finally, the wizard seemed to be able to catch his breath and the coughing lessened considerably. He opened his eyes now and carefully flexed his muscles.

"Really, Tom, who did you meet with that did this to you?"

"Unimportant," he rasped. She frowned her displeasure. " _Vulnera Sanentum_...for the wounds...no more...ancient Muggle healing."

Hermione's lips itched to smirk at his correction but instead she gripped her wand once more. "What's the wand movement?"

"Trace...the wounds."

Lifting her wand, she traced the splicing on his side along with the wounds on his chest, relieved she would not need to resort to stitching once more. She swiftly shifted her gaze from each injury to the next, temples throbbing as her only focus was on healing him.

"I take it your potion didn't work?"

"Hmph." The huff came out as more of a groan.

She sat back to admire her work, furrowing her eyebrows as she noticed the way a large hematoma was forming on his leg underneath the fresh sutures. Merlin, what she would do for some of the pastes, creams, and solutions Tom had in his potions cabinet! Essence of Dittany would be ideal. _That's it! The Dittany I collected. It's probably still in my cloak pocket_. " _Accio Dittany._ "

The magical plant flew to her outstretched hand and she began feeding the leaves into his mouth little by little. "Chew them. Try and chew them, please!" She saw his jaw clench, then start to move, as she watched the swelling go down in his leg and fresh skin grow over the cuts and spilching on his chest.

Sighing in relief, she sat back on her thighs. "Merlin, Tom. I never would have thought there were wizards that could best you so."

"They weren't wizards," he said, in an expression that could only be described as a sneer, which irritated Hermione beyond belief due to the fact that she'd drawn upon nearly all the magical healing she knew just to tend to him. _Ungrateful!_ "And they were expecting us. The place had been powerfully warded, rendering our portkey useless."

"Weren't wizards? So a magical beast of some kind?"

"Giants."

"Giants? That's why you brewed the best friend potion. How would it not have worked? You only need to slip it in some mead."

"Bungbarrel Spiced-Mead, I know. But they did not trust us from the start." Tom made to sit up but Hermione put a firm hand on his chest.

"No," she ordered, noting the unusual way Tom didn't even bring himself to fight her. "I'll levitate you to you're room. Just unlock it once we get up there."

She rose to her feet and pointed her wand at him, levitating him into the air and hovering him down the hall and up the stairs.

"Really, Tom," she continued to lecture him. "I don't see why you accept such doomed missions from the Minister. It's as if he sets you up to fail."

"I wouldn't have failed had we left when I'd originally intended to, before all the wedding mess," he countered. "I'm sure I could have gotten to the colony before the enemy did."

Hermione stayed quiet, silently musing whether or not he would have been successful in this endeavor had it not been for her abrupt arrival to this time. Once she reached the door, she was surprised she was able to open it, realizing Tom had taken down his wards somehow, even in his wounded state.

Using her wand, she laid him gently on his bed, then took a curious look around, wondering if she could find something useful to give him so he could better sleep off his injuries.

"Don't pilfer through my belongings." His demand came out rather weak but she still shot him a withering stare. Ignoring him, she continued her search, coming to the chifforobe. Opening one of the drawers, her heart lept as she spotted a supply of common potions. Snatching the Dreamless Sleep, she came back over to his side.

"Drink this," she ordered. The churlish wizard looked like he meant to resist, but Hermione cupped his chin before tilting the vial to his lips. She was relieved when he actually complied.

Finally feeling calmer with Tom much more comfortable, fairly-well healed, and resting, her heart wrenched in her throat once more as a thought struck her. "Tom, where are the others?"

He merely gave her an incoherent mumble.

"Tom!" She shook him fiercely. "Cas, Abraxas, Rabastan...where are they?"

"Still stuck in the cave...difficult to break...through wards...that's why I spilched myself getting here."

"Now that you've tampered with them," she said pacing, the wheels turning rapidly in her mind. "You can send Hokey to retrieve them. Hokey!"

The house elf appeared instantly. "Mistress sends for Hokey?"

"Tom." The wizard didn't respond, exhaustion seeming to have set in. She shook him again, roughly. "TOM!" He opened his eyes groggily. "Give Hokey the order, I don't know where the cave is!"

Yielding, Tom made a valiant effort to speak. "Hokey, fetch my followers from the cave...one by one."

Hermione shot a frantic look over to Hokey. Would it be enough? It seemed that it was as Hokey promptly disappeared with a soft pop. She allowed her shoulders to sag with relief once more, looking over to Tom who had fallen asleep again.

Slumping in the fauteuil beside his bed, she ran a shaky hand through her riotous hair that had slipped out of her updue. Merlin, what an evening! Hermione marveled at the way the night had took a turn. Something itched at the corner of her mind, a memory, or a thought, rather. She had hoped he wouldn't return from his secret mission.

With stark clarity, she realized that not only had he returned, but she had helped heal him.

Unable to think on it further, she leaned her head back in the chair, keeping the tiredness at bay, and waited patiently for Hokey to return.

 **000**


	14. Chapter 14: Dangerous Liaisons

**A/N:**  
 **Hey guys! Back with another update and it's a fairly long one, so I hope you like it! My goal is to put this story on a monthly update schedule, which with life and my other works, is probably the best I can do right now. On the side, I have started a new time-travel tomione, but I'm waiting until it's half way done before I start posting.**

 **Inspiration: Skyrim Elder Scrolls soundtrack and the Facebook group Beyond the Book FanFiction Nook, which chat keeps me inspired to write C:**

 **Beta Love: sunshinealeia**  
 **Thanks to LeanaM, who has beta-read a couple chapters for me, and thanks to MammaWeasley27 and ReverseUniverse for looking over some older chapters.**

 **Thanks to those that have followed, favorited, and reviewed! riddlesgurl86, tneha, Infernalbooks, AbsurdInsomnia, Another-Imperfect-Soul, marzipan4, sunshinealeia, Annamonk, valentinalondono3597, and the guests!**

* * *

 **000**

Leaves shifted and crunched as the rat scurried through the forest under the cover of night. The waning crescent moon was barely visible behind a thin veil of clouds. The trees were like giants guarding the forest, but the rat was small, inconsequential, and went largely unnoticed.

He sensed many beasts moving about as he did, silently through the night. Beasts as well as beings, a fact that sent a flicker of fear through the small creature. There was one such being that drew nearer and nearer. The rat edged to the trunk of a tree, hiding as he was so very used to doing in life.

The large creature stopped just a meter away. The rat could see the air around it reverberating with magic. Soon, the creature was shifting and changing. He was no longer an animal, but straightened to the full height of a human.

"I know you're here, Peter," the man said. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Satisfied upon hearing the sound of Black's voice, Peter began the transformation from his Animagus form back into human form. He stumbled from under the cover of the trees.

"Sirius," he greeted.

"Peter." The black-haired wizard inclined his head.

Peter jerked back in surprise at the cold treatment. A knot of fear began to form in his belly. Did his longtime friend know he'd been conversing with the enemy? It would be impossible. Peter was careful, and he knew Sirius and Harry couldn't be everywhere. He hadn't even made his decision yet. He'd talked to Nott, sure, but that was all. He had nothing to be guilty for—at least not yet.

"Haven't seen you at the Burrow lately," Sirius hedged carefully. "There a reason for that?"

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. That was one thing with Black; you always knew where you stood with him.

"Been working a lot. Helping mother around at her flat." He dug his foot in the soft earth distractedly. "I met Ron a few nights ago at the Leaky Cauldron."

"He said he saw you there." Sirius glanced off towards the horizon. "We're just wondering why we haven't seen you. Miss Weasley expected you at Sunday dinner."

"I know." Peter swallowed. "I just want a good recommendation from Mr. Eyelop. I'm trying to get that job at the Ministry, you know? In the Pet Advisory Board-"

"Peter," Sirius interrupted him. "You do know we're on the verge of a war?"

Peter's mouth snapped shut at the subtle reprimand.

Sirius continued, "If you noticed, none of us have really bothered with looking for jobs post school. There's a reason for that. There's a fight coming—a big one. Are we going to be able to count on you when the time comes?"

The blond wizard faltered. Sirius was so blatant and to the point—there was no dancing around with him. When he'd received his owl that morning, he'd spent the day in trepidation wondering what Sirius wanted to talk to him about, letting his imagination go wild. Turns out, all he wanted was a simple assurance Peter was still ready and willing to fight for the light. He felt perfectly divided. On one hand, he wanted to remain loyal to his friends, and on the other, he wanted to shake some sense in them—they were heading into a battle they were bound to lose.

"Peter," Sirius snapped impatiently. "What's the verdict?"

Peter nodded stiffly. "Of course you can count on me."

 **000**

"That should do it," Hermione said, plopping down on the chair next to him. She reached for her tea cup from the table. "They're both tucked away and have had Dreamless Sleep. I think their wounds will heal quite nicely."

Tom's eyes narrowed as a flicker of irritation passed through him. The insufferable girl had taken liberties with all of his supplies and potions, neglecting completely to ask for permission once he'd made the mistake of unlocking it. For the past two days, she'd been buzzing around the house like a cornish pixie. He found himself wishing there was a way he could turn her off.

"You really should be more careful with those under your care, Tom," she scolded. "It's an abuse of power, to force those boys on such a dangerous mission. And with giants no less! Honestly Tom, I don't know what would provoke you to accept a mission you knew was folly."

"I don't recall asking for your opinion," he said through clenched teeth.

"What a blessing. Because _I don't recall_ seeking your permission." She snatched a biscuit from a nearby tray, seemingly oblivious to just how close he was to losing it on the unsuspecting witch. "Besides," she continued flippantly. "You should be far more cordial to someone that's saved your life."

"You didn't save my life," he seethed, reaching for his cigar and lighting with a quick flick of his wand.

"Oh?" It was impossible to _not_ detect the thinly veiled humor. "So you, bleeding out on the carpet floor wasn't a fatal cry for help? My eyes must have deceived me."

He took his time inhaling the sweet tobacco, before exhaling it in a plume of curling smoke. He relaxed, but only just. "I was resting. Recovering. I would have eventually been able to heal myself before going back for the others. You saved me some time, _that's all_."

"How remarkably ungrateful." Hermione got up from her seat, shooting him a withering stare, before turning to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Since the company here leaves so much to be desired, I fancy a stroll through the forest, _alone_."

"You're not fooling anyone. You constantly go out to the forest. You've obviously befriended someone out there. _Or something_."

"Perhaps I do have friends in the forest." She shrugged carelessly. "They'd be a sight better company than what I have to deal with here."

"You can't possibly mean to go out there dressed like that." He gave her a meaningful once over. "That thin fabric can hardly be classified as a dress."

"I swear to Merlin," she muttered under her breath, striding to the coat rack and selecting a random cloak to throw over herself. "There. Now are you happy? If it's any comfort, I don't plan on treating with royalty while I'm out."

A muscle twitched by his eye. "What if your patients wake? Whatever will they do without their doting Healer-Hermione? Do you mean to leave them high and dry?"

"I've already told you I gave them Dreamless Sleep. Unless…" Her gaze turned calculating and she grinned sardonically at him. "Unless, that is, it's you that will be missing my company?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he answered quickly, taking another calming puff from his cigar.

"Oh yes." She smirked, taking several steps forward. "The big bad Thomas Riddle—desires my company." She placed her hand mockingly over her heart. "That I should be so privileged."

"You're really laying it on thick, aren't you?"

Her hands fell to her hips and her grin grew wider. "All you have to do is say it, Tom. Just say the words, and I suppose I can forego my evening stroll through the woods. The fairies and the flitterbies shan't miss me too much."

Honey colored eyes collided with stormy blue ones. Tom's gaze darkened with displeasure at the blatant challenge. Hermione's smile fell from her face at the abrupt change in his countenance, much to Tom's delight.

"I do not wish anything of the sort," he informed her scathingly.

She pressed her lips in a thin line, eyes smoldering with determination. "Really?" She sauntered ever closer to him. "Not many people know this about you, but I've found you can be a rather excellent… _liar_."

"The Hermione brains hard at work again, I see." He shrugged dismissively, somehow remaining graceful through the action. "But alas; you over analyze everything."

Hermione frowned, fiddling uncertainly with the lapel of her cloak. "Suit yourself then," she remarked offhandedly.

"Whatever you're doing, be quick about it. You don't want to be caught in the woods after dark."

She shot him a derisive look from the door. "I think there are scarier things at home than there are in the woods." She opened the door and left without a backwards glance.

Tom fumed silently in his chair. _The nerve of the girl, coming and going as she pleases, bold as brass_. He'd yet to tame the wench, and now that she'd adapted the crazy notion in her head that she'd somehow saved the day, it would be impossible to deflate her ego. What was more, he couldn't begin to imagine what she was up to, sneaking off into the forest again. Whatever it was, he was sure it didn't bode well for him.

He may have chased after her, if it wasn't for a sudden crackling in the fireplace. He glanced over sharply to see a face rapidly forming in the embers.

 _Impeccable timing_ , he thought darkly.

Reaching for his cane, he walked over to the dying flames with slow, deliberate steps.

"Riddle," the voice of Gellert Grindelwald wheezed. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Minister." _Who else would it bloody well be?_

"I apologize for breaching your wards to use this form of communication, but we haven't heard from you in four days. We feared the worse."

He suppressed the wave of annoyance that welled up, erecting a mask of indifference.

"It is I that owes you an apology, Minister. I only Owl'd you this afternoon. You probably haven't received it yet."

Gellert looked as surprised as a person in embers could look. "No, I haven't. I suppose you can simply debrief me here."

"Of course." Tom leaned heavily on his cane. "We were set up. The enemy had already made it to the giant colony before us, and there was no chance of success. Their minds were made up. They didn't trust us to drink the mead we brought."

"Sounds like you underestimated them."

He gripped the cane tightly but remained impassive. "I was ill-prepared."

"So the enemy has the giants and centaurs on their side. No matter, there are still the vampires and werewolves to contend with which to contend. I've already sent an ambassador to speak with the vampire community. I'll need you to speak with our mutual friend personally."

"My Lord, do you think we can procure the renegade werewolves to our side when the Ministry rounds them up, and sends them to Azkaban?"

"It matters not." His eyes glowed brightly. "I've issued waivers and I'll issue more to the ones in hiding, so long as they choose the right side."

"And," Tom hazarded carefully, "their treatment from those in the magical community?"

"What about it?" Gellert snapped.

"With all due respect, I'm not sure they'll be quick to join us when those in the wizarding community shun them, my Lord."

"It's a much better fate than the alternative—a silver warded cell in Azkaban."

"Of course," Tom answered smoothly. "Though there is the small issue of numbers. I'll have to have Fenir check with Wagga, but I believe the werewolf population has dwindled significantly."

"That's the joy of recruiting werewolves, isn't it? The beasts can bolster their numbers easily enough."

"Minister, I'm not sure I follow…?" Tom raised his eyebrows questioningly.

The fire crackled and popped. "I never took you for dense, Riddle."

Tom's eyes widened a fraction, incredulous, but he quickly schooled his features. _So, the Minister is allowing, no, encouraging, werewolves to infect people?_ He'd never known Gellert to resort to something so drastic. He nodded stiffly.

"Be quick about speaking to the wolf. Seems you've had quite enough of a break."

Tom unclenched his jaw. "As you say. It's only an Apparition away, after all."

"That's another thing, Tom. I thought it'd be best if I reinstated the Apparition wards. Not by the estates or any of the Apparition points, but the forest, of course, as Potter and his people are known to meet in secret there."

Tom inwardly seethed, but outwardly held his cool, inclining his head. "A wise choice, my Lord."

"See that you make haste, Tom. It is a full moon tonight, after all. I hear it's better to have words with them before their transformation than the morning after. I know Greyback retains more sentiance than his kind usually do, but still, best to avoid him during that time."

Gellert did not wait to see if his words resonated, but rather, he vanished quite suddenly from Tom's fireplace.

 _Good-fucking-riddance_ , he inwardly snarled.

His mood had already been thoroughly provoked by Hermione earlier in the afternoon. Now, it was to an all-time boiling point thanks to the Minister and his orders. What was more, the pain from his freshly healed wounds may have ebbed, but his muscles were still sore and it burned whenever he took a deep inspiration. _And now I can't even bloody Apparate to Forest End, thanks to the Minister._ What was even more troubling, he was fairly certain Hermione had been unaware of the Apparation wards before embarking in her late afternoon stroll. _She better give herself plenty of time to get home._

None too happily, he grabbed his cloak and exited the solarium.

 **000**

"Is that made out of stone?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the mortar and pestle lying on Piper's table.

Piper gave a quick nod before casting an anxious look out of the window. "Marble can be…pricey," she explained. "Er…Lady Riddle?"

Hermione looked up sharply.

"I mean, _Hermione_. I hadn't been expecting company this evening."

"Piper, dear, it's not even six yet. Surely you have a little time to show me around your potions chamber?"

Piper fiddled with the sleeves of her gown in frustration, she wasn't used to dealing with such persistence.

She'd been stunned to find Lady Riddle on her doorstep just a few moments before, carrying an armful of potions ingredients. What was even more shocking, was her insistence to come inside, even after Piper had hinted heavily that it was not a good day to do so. Alarm had immediately flooded the witch, overshadowing her initial bewilderment. It was a full moon night, _for Circe's sake_ , hardly the ideal time to entertain company.

"Er, La-, Hermione, I hadn't received notice-"

"I know," she waved her hand glibly in the air. "I was just strolling through the woods and thought I'd stop and say hello." She motioned to the basket that was still looped over her arm. "I came across some nightshade and I picked plenty to share."

"That's very thoughtful of you."

Piper winced as she remembered the way she rushed the witch through her home. There wasn't much to be proud of, but this room was her haven.

Hermione looked around Piper's makeshift potions chamber with wide eyes. "You're so lucky to have your very own potions chamber. Tom's always warding me out of his." Her eyebrows drew together in irritation at the apparent reminder. "No matter. I wonder if you'd let me use yours, so long as I brought supplies?"

Piper was baffled. Did the witch really mean to use her chambers? Was there not a more suitable alternative? "Of course I'd be honored, but-"

"Wonderful!" Hermione interrupted and continued to wander curiously around the room. "Merlin, is that a cupel?" She picked up the sturdy cone. "Tom's is made out of bone ash. What's this one made out of?"

"Wood ash."

"You do alchemy?"

"I sometimes find it more profitable to crush my own potions ingredients."

"Remarkable," Hermione praised. "I don't know much about smelting…"

Piper shot another nervous glance at the window. _As if the full moon isn't bad enough, Father is due home shortly._

"I'd be glad to share with you what I know." Piper placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. "Only tonight isn't the best of evenings. My father will be home soon, and I have dinner in the hearth."

"Oh, alright," Hermione conceded. "I suppose if there are any lessons to be had, it'll have to happen another time." She placed the wide hood of her cloak over her head.

"You'd best hurry to the Apparation point," Piper advised, worried for the witch. "You wouldn't want to be caught after dark in these woods."

She let out a very unladylike snort. "Someone's gone and put up anti-Apparation wards. Does that happen often?"

Piper gasped.

Hermione looked up quickly, mistaking Piper's horror for surprise.

"I know, right?" Hermione let out a sigh of annoyance. "Of all the rotten luck."

"Hermione, you need to run home this instant— _the sun is already setting_."

Hermione's lips twisted in a half smirk. "Piper, dear, I'm not afraid of the dark."

Piper did not smile back, trepidation freezing her in place.

Hermione's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Piper, is there something you're not telling me? Is there something out there that scares you? You can tell me, you know. I'd like us to be friends."

Piper's heart beat rapidly against her chest as she wished for nothing more than to tell the perceptive girl _everything_. How alone she was…how fearful…how ashamed. It was the latter feeling that made her decision for her. Words formed on her tongue but she swallowed them down thickly.

"Not at all." Piper smiled brightly, inwardly repulsed by the falseness of it. "Just do be careful; a lady should always have an escort, mother always said."

Hermione returned her smile comfortingly. "Don't worry, I'll come and visit soon. Then we can have a proper chat." She kissed her on the cheek.

Piper watched Hermione leave, consternation brewing under her demure facade. Hermione had only wanted friendship and if Piper accepted what Hermione was offering, that would make her Piper's _only friend_. Friends didn't let friends head into danger. Anxiety gripping her, she rushed to her room and fell to the floor, pressing her back against the stone wall. She lifted the heavy chain linked to the wall and cuffed one around her leg, than another around her arm. For Hermione's sake, she hoped the girl could run fast.

 **000**

Clutching her cloak tightly around her small figure, Hermione wove through the woods, careful to avoid the gnarled tree roots that poked through the earth. The light from the tip of her wand purged the darkness that immediately surrounded her, but she still found herself tripping on occasion.

 _Sweet Morgana, if I'd only known I wouldn't be able to Apparate this evening, perhaps I wouldn't have left so late, and so thinly dressed. As much as I hate to admit it, Tom was right, the bastard._ She sighed in exasperation. _He could have simply requested I stayed, would that have been so difficult? The insufferable man is incapable of swallowing his pride._

Fueled by her indignation she picked up speed, jumping when she heard a distant howl. _What the actual hell, Hermione? Scared of harmless animals now? Keep moving._ It was unfortunate, by her calculations, she should have broken the forest fringe by this point—she'd been navigating the woods for the past hour. _I'm getting turned around in this bloody place. It's harder to find my way when it's so dark and I can't Apparate!_ She glanced at the full moon, partially obscured by the thick foliage of trees. Something was distinctly different about the woods.

She looked up again, when it occurred to her, usually there were tiny flutterbies fluttering from one tree to the next. To say nothing of the pixies and wood nymphs that plagued the place. What she wouldn't give for the comfort of their presence _now_. It was odd to find the forest so bare. She hadn't even hear an owl cry or a phoenix call. Her heart rate sped up as she pondered on the change.

 _There's no other way around it,_ she tried to console herself. _You're not on a bloody vacation. If Piper is any key to helping figure out who the dark wizards are, that needs to be explored. And she is a key, Merlin but she is. The poor girl is frightened. She's bound to warm up to me sooner or later, I'll just have to keep trying._

Pulling her cloak tighter still, she stepped around another tree, hoping against hope that she would soon see the lights of the great manors break through the thick line of the forest.

There were no lights in the distance, to her despair. She trudged on, picking up speed. _Tom will be in a right sore state when he sees how late I get home._ She lifted her skirts to step over a fallen branch when she heard it; a twig snap somewhere behind her. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck as she became overwhelmed with the sense she was being followed.

She raised her wand, then thought better of it. _Nox_ , she inwardly willed. The light snuffed out and drowned her in darkness. Gripping her wand harshly, she picked up her pace. Whatever it was that was following her had to be large, because it picked up it's pace as well, and Hermione distinctly sensed the presence of a large beast moving with her. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a low growl.

Heart racing, she broke into a run, trying to decide if she should light her wand again so she could better see where she was going. If it was a beast as she feared, the darkness would have little effect on it as it did on here. She came to the realization too late. She tripped on a fallen log and fell face down into the dirt, just barely breaking her fall with her hands. Her wand clattered somewhere across the forest floor.

She hastily rolled to her back, ignoring her aching muscles, and preparing to jump back up when she saw them—yellow eyes not reminiscent of that of a human's—yet oddly intelligent. _A werewolf._ The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Oh this was good, very good. Was it Piper? Or Piper's father? She didn't want to risk hurting her friend, and it was that moment of uncertainty that resulted in sharp claws digging into her sides.

Hermione screamed, while simultaneously willing a wandless _Expulso_. The beast flew several feet in the air, before flying in the opposite direction. She made to get onto her feet, but staggered, the pain in her sides riddling through her body. She sat down hard on her bum, screwing her eyes shut against the pain. _Healing spells, healing spells,_ she inwardly chanted, trying to dredge a suitable one up from her memory. Her vision swam and all she saw was red. She could feel the warm blood seeping through the material of her dress and she became immediately lightheaded.

"Vulner, vulnera-, ah," she couldn't finish the spell, couldn't remember it, even, nor could she summon the strength the spell required. What was worse, she could sense the wolf drawing closer to her, seemingly recovered from her desperate spell.

"A witch," he growled, in a low, rough voice.

Hermione's eyes widened. Werewolves spoke during their transformation? Perhaps she could barter with it.

"You must be a stupid witch to go out during a full moon, _alone_."

 _Yes_ , she thought, _I'm quite stupid_. Before she could answer, she felt her body fly through the air and hit a nearby tree, her head thwacking against the large oak. She saw stars, and the pain in her sides coupled with her head grew unbearable.

"Please," she appealed to him. "You don't want to attack me." At least that's what she meant to say, what she actually managed to say came out quite garbled to her own ears. The wolf seemed to get the jist of it, though.

"Oh but I do," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck, causing her to flinch away at his unexpected close proximity. "I do enjoy playing with my food. Especially when it comes so willingly into my woods."

Hermione dug deep, trying to find some will in her to fight. She called upon her magic, from that primitive place that seemed to know no bounds. The wolf was nuzzling her neck and she flexed her fingers, willing her power to come to her.

She saw a red spell, whiz and crackle through the darkness, heading straight for her. Abandoning her plan of attack, she summoned all of her energy to duck and roll to the side in an effort to dodge it. Apparently, she was not the intended target, as the victim, blessedly her attacker, fell roughly to the forest floor.

"That's my wife, wolf."

Hermione's heart stuttered then soared at the sound of _that_ voice, that deathly calm, yet distinctly dangerous voice. She painfully scurried from her crouched position on the floor, crawling over leaves and dirt towards the sound of his voice. She could barely make out his menacing shadow in the darkness, only what was visible in the scant moonlight.

The wolf coughed, and sputtered. He was also huddled on the ground, but Hermione was on high alert, lest he make a speedy recovery.

"I know you're one of the sentient ones, Greyback," Tom said in the same low voice. "You had your fangs very near my wife's throat. Won't you answer for yourself?"

 _Greyback_ , her mind screamed. _So he is Piper's father._

He lit the tip of his wand, and the glow from the light he cast was initially blinding, Hermione had to screw her eyes shut. Once she peeked them open once more, she saw her attacker was covering his claws over his face, hiding from Tom's piercing light. The beast was as huge as she had guessed, but he wore clothes, at least his bottom half, an observation that caused her to giggle. A muscle clenched by Tom's eye and his ever-present mask looked very close to splintering.

"Riddle," he wheezed. "I did not know the lady was yours. Who the fuck let's a woman wander through the woods?"

Pointing his wand at the wolf, a red light protruded from it, darker this time, aiming straight at his chest. Greyback snarled, baring his teeth as his whole body shook.

Expressionless, Tom continued his assault. "It's not for you to question my actions."

Hermione watched in awe, her feelings in turmoil as she witnessed her husband's power directed at someone else for a wonderful change, and because of _her_ no less _._ She should be appalled he would resort to such a thing, but part of her appreciated how far he was willing to go to protect her, even if she wouldn't readily admit it, and even if she was surely in for her own punishment when they returned home.

"Your Cruciatus does next to nothing to me in my wolf state," the wolf hissed.

"Yes, but I imagine it's mildly uncomfortable."

The wolf grunted.

Tom continued. "That you would chance an attack so close to my land shows much disrespect, Greyback."

 _So close?_ Hermione mused. Had she really been that close to safety?

"I mean no disrespect."

Riddle lifted his curse, and Greyback glared up at him. Hermione marveled at the way a werewolf was restraining himself, and all for Tom. No wonder the man had such a big ego— _everyone feared him_. The thought made her frown.

"I came with news to share with you, but now, I'm not so sure you deserve to hear it."

Greyback's yellow eyes took on a greedy sheen. "What news?" he prompted. "I pledge myself in the Minister's service. How can I aid him?"

"By not attacking his people, for starters. Aren't there plenty of animals around here you can sink your teeth into?" Tom chanced a glance at Hermione, before quickly looking back to the wolf. Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. It seemed as though Tom wished she were elsewhere for the rest of this conversation. It did nothing but spur her interest.

"It won't happen again."

For a second, Tom looked contemplative, before he came to a decision. "The Minister is willing to work with you, so long as you recruit your brethren. He's prepared to offer waivers to any wolf that swears allegiance to him."

"There are five others I have no doubt would pledge their loyalty."

"That isn't enough. See that you recruit more."

"More?"

Tom and the wolf exchanged a meaningful glance Hermione did not understand in her hazy state.

"Yes, more," Tom confirmed. "Report back to us when you have. One more misstep, and I will personally see to it that you spend your days long and torturous in a warded cell in Azkaban."

Greyback got to his feet. "There won't be any more missteps." With that, the wolf disappeared into the forest, and Hermione let out a ragged sigh of relief.

Tom turned his attention, or rather, his rage, to her. He crouched down in front of her and laid her on the ground, performing a quick diagnostic. She was helpless to protest and completely at his mercy. Cursing, he waved his wand in a series of complicated patterns. Hermione felt the punctures in her side sealing themselves up. His hands found their way into her tangled curls, her updue having become nearly nonexistent in the altercation. The feel of his hands against her scalp was immediately soothing, but when she felt the energy leave him and enter her, her head cleared measurably.

Hermione let out a groan.

She sat up on her hands, staring into dark and angry eyes.

"Having fun?" he asked, voice deathly calm.

"You could have told me anti-Apparation wards were up," she said defensively. She shivered from the chilly night air, and pulled her tattered cloak around her. _The damned thing is ruined. I rather liked this cloak_.

"You're shaking like a bloody leaf." Tom straightened, then bent to scoop her into his arms. Hermione let out a surprised gasp, suddenly feeling a blush creep up her neck. "How someone can be so thick, I'll never know."

"I already explained the reason." She wasn't sure where to place her hands, so she anchored them around his neck, and rested her head against his chest, even if he seemed angry enough to kill her once they left the woods. He froze for a moment, and she held her breath, wondering if he'd dump her on the floor, or simply levitate her, as he'd done before.

He did neither, regaining his bearings and making his way gracefully through the woods, as if he knew the place by heart. _He probably does, the bastard_. She was content to be carried without the threat of immediate death looming over her, even though she wasn't sure what would happen when they returned to the manor.

"That was stupid," he continued to harp on her. "I've no idea what was so important, you had to venture out in the woods so late in the afternoon in the first place."

"To get away from you."

"You've no idea what's out there. You've no idea about _anything_. You're nothing but a lost little girl."

Hermione yawned dramatically. "Are you done yet?"

He glared at her, black eyes glittering. They stepped through some trees and into a glade. Hermione was pleased to see the manor close by, finally.

"He would have killed you, you know," he continued, undeterred. "Wouldn't even have hesitated. Any sane person would know not to trapeze through werewolf-infested woods during a full moon."

"You might have warned me," she pointed out for the second time.

He sighed. "I thought you'd Apparate back well before then."

"What a coincidence—so did I," she countered. She noted his heavy breathing and thought it best she walk the short way back. "You can put me down now. _I'm fine_."

"Thanks to me," he reminded her, but set her down gently on her feet. Hermione marveled at the way he could be so tender with her yet so ready to go off at any moment.

"Yes, thanks to you," she agreed.

"Perhaps I should transfigure you into a canary and lock you in a golden cage. I could keep you in my potions chamber. You do so love my potions chamber."

She picked up her skirts and shuffled over the wet grass. "That's a very _Tom thing_ to do."

"The witch that became a canary—and that would be the story of you."

"You can stop with the dramatics anytime, you know."

They reached the threshold of the house and entered. Tom took her cloak, all the while muttering about it's tarnished condition. Hermione watched, entranced by his care of her.

"Perhaps I should injure myself more often," she suggested. "It causes you to act like an actual gentlemen, _for once_."

He took her arm firmly in his, and lead her upstairs to her room. "Unbelievable. It's all a joke to you? Isn't it? You don't even care that you nearly ended the night as wolf meat."

"I'm just surprised you made a deal with him." Hermione walked carefully up the stairs. "He was about to eat your wife, and you grant him leniency? I find that quite odd."

"It's none of your business," he snapped. "If it suited my purposes to kill him, I would have, you can be sure about that."

"I wonder, death by a werewolf, or death by you talking my to death." She placed a finger contemplatively on her chin. "Which do I prefer?"

He pressed his lips in a thin line. "I'm glad you can shrug it off so easily."

They reached the door of her room, and he stared down at her, eyes burning with barely repressed rage. She knew she should take her cue, duck her head, and return to her room quietly muttering her thanks, but she was spellbound. What was more, this only had the effect of spurring her on.

"I'm not a knight-in-shining-armour," he snarled. "I only happened to be in the woods on business. See to it you don't find yourself in such a position again. I won't be there to save you."

Hermione smirked up at him before taking a step forward and standing on her toes to kiss him soundly on the lips. It was the only way to shut him up after all. She pulled back, mischief in her eyes. "Knights-in-shining-armour get thank you kisses for saving their ladies," she informed him. "Are you quite sure about that?"

His eyes widened in surprise before darkening with desire. Features set cruelly, he gripped her by the waist tightly, and pressed her back up against the wall. "Are you sure you want to play this game, darling?" He ran his rand hand lightly up her side, eliciting tingles where his fingertips touched. "I'm not the wizard to be toyed with."

She wanted to play alright. Despite his warning, she was sure she could keep the upper hand. It was he that would be sorry for doubting her. She bit her lower lip and trailed her hands lightly up his chest, watching them as they moved over his hardened physique. She wasn't sure what exactly prompted her to act so daring, but it came almost naturally, and she thirsted for it.

Honey colored orbs collided with dark, cobalt blue ones, and he had his answer.

Their lips clashed together roughly, and Hermione's heart soared. This was just what she desired. It had been too long since their last moment of intimacy. Playing with Tom was like playing with fire, but she craved _more_. Despite her limited experience, she had got a crash course in the weeks since she met him, and had tasted upon the pleasure he could give. She threaded her fingers through his silky soft hair, pulling him closer.

They battled for dominance, tongues clashing with each other. Of course this was how it was for them—a battle of wills like everything else in their relationship. She felt her body grow hot, and she rubbed against him, looping her arms around his neck and letting her hands massage the base of his scalp. His own hands were wandering in such a delightful pattern, she was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the pleasurable sensations.

He stepped forward, pressing her further up against the wall. She arched her back, brushing her pelvis up against his and delighting in the feel of liquid heat engulfing her very core. He gripped her harshly by the hip, and she nibbled at his lip, tearing a ragged groan from his mouth. He licked at the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, twining her tongue with his.

Kissing Tom was actually quite wonderful. One wouldn't think it would be, being with how difficult the man was to get along with in every other aspect of life, but, _oh my,_ how it was. He tasted like honeyed tea and sweet cigars. Kissing him gave her such rapturous happiness, she worried it could become addictive.

She broke away for sweet air, panting harshly. " _Tom_ ," she said huskily.

He didn't let her think, head dropping to suckle her neck. Her head tilted back to allow him better access. The feeling in the pit of her abdomen blossomed and bloomed. She twisted her body, desperate for more of his touch, aching to feel his hands on her skin, instead of just over the flimsy material.

His voice was like silk over steel. "Don't think about it, Hermione."

He reclaimed her lips, ensnaring her in another brutal kiss. She acted wholly on instinct, desire hammering through her and causing her brain to cloud with need. It was another reminder of how dangerous Tom could be. She could stand up to him in a magical battle, she could bite back as hard as he could in a debate, but in this…all she wanted to do was meld their bodies together and let him take the reins.

He sneakily bunched up her gown, rubbing herself through the vee of her thighs, too distracted by his searing kiss that demanded her full participation to immediately notice. His hands grew bold in their exploration of her, wandering the the globes of her bum. Rushing need pounded through her and she began to tentatively move against him.

 _Dangerous._

The unwelcome thought flit across her brain.

This hadn't been what she'd intended to happen. She wanted to prove a point to him. What had the point been again? She wasn't even entirely sure. All she knew was, she started this, and she would end it, on her terms.

She broke away, and stepped to the side. Her chest rose and fell sharply. She was reluctant to draw away from his warmth but had to get enough space if not just to think clearly.

"Thank you for the lovely evening," she said throatily. "But I do think it's time I turn in for the night."

He looked puzzled, initially. Hair mussed and lips swollen from their kiss. Hermione found she liked this look on him. He chuckled darkly, and Hermione felt the sound reverberate through her own chest.

"What a perfect idea. Perhaps I should join you?" His dark eyes raked over her, rife with sexual promise and she felt her heart stutter again. Oh my.

"Erm, actually, I don't think that'd be such a good idea-"

"Hermione." Her name came out like a caress and her eyes fluttered shut. Even his voice set her blood to pumping. "You're doing that thing again." He had stepped closer, and his breath tickled against her neck. She arched it to the side, letting her determination slip. "That thing where you think. You don't need to think, just feel. Let me make you feel." One hand tangled in her hair and the other ghosted up her side, brushing against her breast. A small moan escaped her mouth. He licked the shell of her ear, all the while, speaking seductively. "Let me join you."

He was asking for permission. This was a battle of wills—she wasn't supposed to let him best her. She had to hold on to some semblance of reason, but it was fleeing her, and the temptation to accept his offer was too great, and she was _lost_.

She bit her lip, nodding as she looked up at him under hooded eyes. "Join me."

 **000**


	15. Chapter 15: He Has Mine, and I Have His

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! I was looking at previous chapters and cringing because there is a lot that bothers me. I was trying to fix those before I posted this update, but only managed to look at two chapters. It's surprisingly hard it is to go back and edit some 80k words! Also, I didn't want to leave you hanging with where I left the last chapter so here is the long awaited Part II, hehe. I hope it doesn't disappoint? Please let me know what you think!**

 **Shout Out: I'm following this new tomione story written by two awesome friends from the group Beyond the Book FanFiction Nook called** **A Royal Celebration of Affairs by** **duo cor unum et anima una. If you're craving a good AU, you should totally check it out ; )**

 **Beta Love: None yet! Sorry in advance for any errors you will likely see.**

 **Inspiration: Ratatat on Pandora**

 **Thanks to all those that have followed and favorited and the reviewers:** **blushomatic, riddlesgurl86, KaneWolfe, PatientlyWaiting, Alytiger, tneha, fundamental blue, marzipan4, mega700201, Infernalbooks, chibi-Clar, Annamonk, PinkSlytherin, Born in 20th Century, AnnaOxford, Myne0, MineaHannaMaritEngstedt, and the guests!**

 **Additional Warnings: Smut abounds. Possibly dubcon? I don't think so, but I'll put it just in case.**

* * *

 **~oOo*oOo~**

Each kiss was drugging.

Each touch intoxicating.

He was an accomplished composer who played her body like an enchanting concerto. The hell if she could hold on to reason, the hell if she wanted to, she was far too busy being utterly consumed by the man. She could kick herself for not submitting to him sooner.

They had yet to even make it to her bed, loosing track somewhere between the chiffarobe and the canapé. His piercing blue eyes raked over her figure and she was taken back by the blatant desire she saw in them. Bloody Morgana, but the man was handsome, and when he looked at her like that whilst sporting that seductive smirk, she was helpless to refuse him.

He pressed her back up against the wall, burrowing his face in her fragrant hair, seeming to revel in the sexy scent of it. He closed the gap between them and used the wall for leverage, seizing her possessively by the hips, and pulling her flesh against him even as he pushed her back against the hard surface. There wasn't a part of him that wasn't touching her, and it sent her senses reeling.

The kiss was anything but soft—just like their relationship—it was a battle for dominance. Butterflies rioted against the wall of her stomach as she tangled her fingers through his short black hair, tugging, and scraping her nails against his scalp. One hand on her hips wandered up her chest, roughly pulling down her bodice whilst the other coaxed the fabric of her skirt higher up her thighs. He made her dizzy with want, her skin was hot and itchy, and her heart was beating wildly as if it meant to hammer straight out of her chest.

"Mmmm," he purred. "You're so beautiful when you actually submit to me." Liquid heat pooled low in her abdomen at his words. "You're skin is flawless…tastes so good…"

The dark infection of his tone was enough to heighten her frenzied state alone, but what he'd said brought up a vision of herself she'd almost forgotten since her months in luxury.

Her face.

Scarred and poc-ridden.

Anything _but_ flawless.

The thread of guilt was enough to distract her momentarily. It was easy to forget about her mission, living as she was in such opulence, but the reminder had the effect of not necessarily icing her desire, but dulling it enough that she froze on the spot.

She looked up at Tom, her husband whom she'd grown used to goading the past several months, but whom she'd also realized was a dark wizard, and as such, an enemy of sorts.

And here she was surrendering to him.

A tendril of fear flared up inside her at the realization, and she hesitantly looked up at him. His eyes were dark pools of lust she could probably drown in, and she could feel his powerful magic bristle through the air forcefully as he noticed the change in her countenance.

"Getting cold feet?" A vicious smirk hung from his lips. "You can't really think to back out now?"

Closing her eyes against her desire, she determinedly opened them once more. "Tom, I really don't think I can do this."

He chuckled darkly, leaning into her hair to whisper seductively into her ear, "Of course you can, darling." He rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her exposed arms.

She shook her head, tears shining in her eyes. "I'm not sure I can, Tom."

"That wasn't a request." He dragged her forcefully to the bed, divesting himself of his coat and shirt in the process. "I'm through making _requests_ of you," he added, as if an afterthought. "You're far too much of a tease."

She gulped at his dark tone, sinking into the bed as he pushed her into it, unprepared for the effortless way he seemed able to awaken her appetite, even after everything she had just told herself. The desire in his eyes mirrored her own, and she became painstakingly aware of her thin chemise covering her chest and exposed to his hungry gaze.

He palmed her roughly over the soft material, and she could not help but arch under his touch. His fingers drew to her shoulders and he slowly swept the straps of her chemise down her arms, baring herself to him, He shimmied her halfway out of her shift with a degree of patience that drove her wild. The material now bunched at her waist in thin layers of silken fabric.

"I think you like fighting me." The seductive edge had not left his voice.

"I don't either," she retorted, biting back a whimper.

"It turns you on more." He grinned knowingly, before cupping her naked breasts and this time palming them skin to skin. He caught her lips in a scorching kiss that had her panting in need when he broke away to kiss a fiery trail down her neck and chest.

"Only you would come up with such a sick and twisted notion, Tom." She failed to keep the tremble from her tone.

Eyes darkened with desire, he arched an eyebrow, smirking at her derisively. "Suppose I test the theory?"

Alarm welled up inside of her, and she reared up quickly, her head spinning with the effort to move through the haze.

He pushed her back down into the bed. "Don't hurt yourself," he chided, grabbing her wrists and holding them above her head. " _Nexus_ ," he hissed.

He let go of her wrists but Hermione found that she was unable to move them, restrained as they now were by magical binds.

"Tom," she called worriedly.

"Now I believe we were discovering if my theory was correct?"

Hermione's cheeks flamed crimson as the meaning of his words resonated with her. He continued his descent down her body until reaching her waist and the material caught at her hips. She wrenched violently when she felt his fingertips whispering up the inside of her thighs.

" _Tom,_ " she threatened, but his name came out more like a plea than a warning.

"Patience, dear. First I must check to see if you've been a bad girl."

He _had_ to feel the heat emanating from her core and in that moment, she wished he would quit toying with her. She wasn't sure why she had resisted him in the first place. Why would she? She _wanted_ her husband to ravish her.

She ached for his touch, but she was unprepared for the feel of him when his fingers found her silken flesh.

A plea issued from her lips as she arched off of the bed as high as her constraints would allow.

"It appears you are a liar, wife."

She wanted to cry when she felt his fingers retreating. She would do _anything_ for the promise of pure relief she knew he was capable of giving.

"Liars should be punished," he continued in a low and husky tone.

She felt the binds around her wrist tighten above her head almost painfully, but this time, he was bending over, and pulling her shaking legs over his shoulders, holding her thighs open to his explorations. She nearly screamed and bucked off of the bed when he pressed his mouth to her, his tongue melting into her, coaxing the most wicked sounds from her mouth. If this was punishment, she hoped he would punish her more often, and frequently, and she had no qualms telling him so. He chuckled darkly against her and the sound reverberated through her core, causing her to writhe desperately against him. _The bastard!_

She soon came to realize what he meant by punishment; every time he edged her towards delirium, coaxed her towards the promise of imminent bliss, he yanked her back viciously, denying her release in the cruelest of ways. He had her reduced to a sobbing, crying mess in no time.

"Fucking _delicious._ "

His fingers joined his tongue, moving in unexpected directions. He was forced to hold her hips down tightly as she thrashed wildly against him, Her emotions consumed her, her vision shrinking to nothing but the man that worked her expertly between her legs, and she craved his touch like she craved air to breathe.

"Perhaps you will learn your lesson," he teased between licks, "I don't tolerate defiance in the bedroom."

"I've _learned,_ " she almost wailed. "Please, _Tom_."

"Please, what?" he asked cruelly, knowing full well what she needed.

Aching with desire, she wracked her brain for the right words to say, but found they were not even in her vocabulary. "Please...I don't know...just _please_."

"I like it when you beg," he said, climbing up her body as his fingers continued to work her skillfully. "Surrender to me, and I'll allow you to find your pleasure."

His voice was like a heady drug and Hermione was helpless but to melt into his words. "Yes, Tom. _Anything_."

"Who do you belong to?"

Sweet Morgana, the man did love to dominate, and if _that wasn't a turn on_. He curled his fingers just so and the coil of tension built to the point that it would surely snap soon. "You, _Tom_ , I belong to you! Now _please_...I need it."

He let out a feral growl as he twisted his fingers just so, causing Hermione to careen off of the ledge she'd been desperately seeking.

"You're so beautiful when you come undone for me," he crooned, before nuzzling her neck with hot kisses. "That's it, take your pleasure."

Her eyes fluttered shut as the waves of euphoria washed over her in a feeling so indescribable she could have never anticipated it. She felt the remnant of her clothes being pulled off and realized she was completely bared to him, but could not summon the energy to be embarrassed.

The animal in her stretched languidly, only just awakened and ready for more, surrendering completely to her husband's expert lead. Dimly, she noticed she was gripping the duvet tightly, and wondered when she'd broken her magical binds. She hoped Tom didn't notice, this time, she wanted to let her hands rove over _his_ body.

His trousers fell to the floor, and she fell slack as her body tried to recover from the incredible rush she'd just experienced.

"Did you think we're done?" he whispered in her ear, sending chills down her cervical spine and all the way to her tailbone. "Not by half, lovely."

Something hot and hard, yet inexplicably as soft as velvet, brushed against her thigh and Hermione realized it was _him_. The thought of him sticking _that_ in her should have sent her frightened and running for the hills, but a curious thrill came over her, and she helpfully spread her legs to accommodate him.

"Good girl," he commended.

He situated himself between her thighs, rubbing that throbbing hot part of him up and down her silken folds which still occasionally fluttered from the aftershocks of her release. He drove her crazy last time, but she would be sure to retain some sentience to do the same to him this time. She may have said what she needed to in order to get what she wanted, but she would not render herself a toy for him.

Twirling her chestnut curls around his fingers, he leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss once more, as if meaning to distract her from what he was about to do. His plan worked; that coupled with the recent relief he had brought her to, and she hardly noticed the fleeting pain when he abruptly sheathed himself in her, so consumed was she by pleasure.

He grunted with male satisfaction when he breached her barrier. Her muscles clenched in heady desire, unconsciously squeezing him which she smugly noticed seemed to drive him wild. He let out a litany of expletives that resulted in a quick snap of his hips. The smug look left her face when he moved inside her, replaced with a building tension ten times more intense than she felt before. The foreign sensation of being filled so completely had her gasping for air.

"Relax, lovely. Take me."

Her body was assaulted with pleasure and need as he began rocking his hips with slow precision. The passionate sounds that issued from her lips only seemed to inflame him more. His fingers dug into her hips as her core tightened and her whole body began to tremble.

"More," her scratchy voice whispered, clawing her nails into the smooth skin of his back.

"So fucking hot and tight around me," he said in a very ungentlemanly fashion, his fingers digging deeper into her flesh around a groan. His eyes were as black as coal and she could no longer make out the blue.

The weight of him pressed her further into the bed as he crashed his lips into hers, devouring her with his mouth, his tongue twining with hers in a timeless dance. Her whimpers mingled with his sounds penetrating the silence of her bedroom.

"You're mine," he growled huskily against the skin of her neck, eliciting the most delightful shivers.

He continued to pump in and out of her quivering heat, reaching down between them to sweep his fingers over her sensitive flesh. Her hips rolled, meeting his powerful thrusts almost frantically as her body felt like it was drowning in pleasure, but she was nothing if not willful and remembered what she'd promised herself.

Taking him by surprise, she flipped them both over, assuming the dominant position and straddling Tom, still connected at the hips.

"What the hell?" he raged.

But the new position had embedded him even deeper inside of her and even though she was inexperienced until today, she found she knew just how to move, lifting her hips just slightly before sitting back down on him.

Immense relief washed over his face and around a moan, he pleaded with her to do it again.

"If I belong to you, that means you belong to me, right?"

She felt like a sexual goddess, riding him, and a strange confidence came over her as she lifted herself until just the tip of him was inside of her.

He mumbled something incoherent and Hermione chuckled darkly at the role reversal.

"It's a simple question, Tom. Have you lost the ability of speech?" She slammed her hips down and his eyelids screwed shut while his jaw clenched. "Who do you belong to, Tom? Tell me."

"You!" he roared, his body straining as his hands found her hips. He began moving her up and down on top of him, and Hermione could not help closing her eyes in bliss as she moved in tandem with him. "I belong to you," he whispered reverently.

Shivers assaulted her as their movements hastened furiously. A scream tore through her throat as her climax hit her and her world shifted, lightning erupting behind her vision. She opened her eyes and saw stars as her body convulsed and fluttered around Tom. He couldn't seem to withstand the movement, and quickly followed her with a cry of relief as his pleasure rocked through him. She held onto him tightly as she felt the fiery spurts of his release.

Exhausted, she fell back onto the bed, absently noticing when Tom quickly dragged her back to him and wrapped his arms around her.

She'd finally slept with her husband, after so long avoiding the inevitable and... _it was glorious._

But she'd given in, and now there would be no going back from this.

She'd effectively sold her soul to Tom Riddle, but she consoled herself with the fact that at least she had his in return.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

Cas examined the collar of his robes in a decidedly bored tone, flicking off a piece of lint.

"You'll look at her, Nott," the Black family patriarch snarled.

Adopting a face of indifference, Cas looked up as directed. "Now you are issuing me orders, _dog_?"

Sirius blanched at the nickname. Cas was well aware of Black's Animagus abilities—and the fact that he was unregistered—all the Knights of Walpurgis knew. Their leader was no idiot, and he certainly didn't align with idiots. Going to school alongside Black, Pettigrew, Greyback, and Potter provided them enough insight to know everything about their enemy, despite how good they thought they were at covering their tracks. Nott would never oust the wizard, but he would revel in using it against him whenever he could.

"You're a right-foul-git, did you know that?" Sirius asked, his tone dropping deadly low.

"Care to back the claim with your wand?" Cas threatened, looking for any reason to stir up a fight rather than deal with the blow he'd just been delivered.

 _Nymphadora Black._

 _She's sitting there, staring at her lap as you insult her favorite cousin who's absolutely right, you are being a right-foul-git,_ a voice in his head nagged him. He could not bring himself to care, too concerned was he over the Minister's slight against him. _Tom was right, he's always right, Grindelwald is no friend of ours. That's two shitty marriages he's arranged._

Cas had the distinct urge to hurl all over his mother's tea service than be forced to endure this meeting a moment longer.

"For what it's worth, Lord Nott," Nymphadora spoke from under thick lashes. "I'm sorry you've been slighted so. I'm not sure why the Minister would deem suitable this arrangement."

Cas felt a pang of guilt at her words, and promptly lit up a cigar, just to have something to do. He took a shaky inhale, gratefully breathing in the acrid taste of tobacco.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Sirius shrilled. "It's Lord Nott who is undeserving of you."

The corners of her lips twisted downward sadly.

"Is there something here I need to know?" Cas gestured between the two Black cousins. "I know Purebloods are known to keep things in the family but…"

Sirius got up angrily from his seat, upturning his tea plate and cup in the process. Hurt flashed across Nymphadora's eyes. His mother chose that moment to re-enter the room, carrying with her the family tiara, which she clutched protectively to her chest when she saw the scene before her.

"Just because you don't know what it's like to care for another person without getting your cock involved-"

"Sirius!" Nymphadora cried.

Lady Nott gasped at his crass words.

Sirius continued undeterred, stepping right up to Cas and forcing him to stand and met his stare head on. "You can't light a candle to her, and if you hurt her... _by Godric_...I swear I'll-"

Cas expelled a smoky exhale, watching as the smoke curbed the side of Black's face and became one with the air in the room. "What will you do, huh, Black?"

The former Gryffindor's nostrils flared as his gaze scraped against Cassiel's like shards of glass. "I'll fucking kill you, that's what I'll do."

Cas guffawed loudly and for a moment, he thought Sirius may throttle him right then and there, but he didn't care, he lived for these moments. It served as the perfect distraction when faced with dealing with real issues.

Nymphadora broke into tears and started crying freely in her hands. Lady Nott put a comforting hand on her soon to be daughter-in-law's shoulder before turning an angry gaze on the two wizards who were still facing off.

"It's never too late to learn proper manners," his mother said, training her maple wand on them. "Apologize this instant or you force my hand."

"You're right as ever, Mother," Cas said, straightening his collar and snuffing out the cigar. "My apologies, Lady Nymphadora. It was not my wish to insult you." He turned back to face Sirius. "And I extend my apologies to you as well, Black. It's quite admirable that you stand up for your cousin."

Sirius stiffened, blinked, then refocused. He turned to face the two ladies in the room. "I'm sorry for my crass language, but you, Nott, know that I mean what I said."

"Duly noted."

"Won't everyone take a seat?" Lady Nott asked hopefully. "We have much to plan in way of nuptials."

Cas gratefully sat down, his body still aching from his near death recovery at the hands of Lady Riddle only days prior.

"Lovely." Lady Nott scanned the room, taking out a magic quill and parchment. "Now, I want everyone to put their differences aside for a moment so we can discuss things like civilized adults."

The room was silent at this request, save for the occasional sniffling of Nymphadora. Cas was struck with the strange urge to comfort the half-blood girl, which was quite odd. He shouldn't feel guilty for making her cry at all. He was a Pureblood and far above her, even she knew it. Who cared if she was a rather comely half-blood, she was still a half-blood. _It doesn't matter,_ he consoled himself, _when Tom takes over, I can have as many mistresses as I please. This is only a temporary predicament._

 **~oOo*oOo~**

Hermione awoke feeling deliciously content and thoroughly sated. Sunlight streamed through the windows and she realized she had slept through to late morning. She stretched luxuriously as the events from the previous evening came flooding back to her.

Merlin, had she really turned into such a wanton creature? Her cheeks flamed as she remembered all the things that had happened between her and Tom. But where was Tom? She stiffened, before looking around the room, but he was nowhere to be found.

 _I see,_ she mused, _he thinks he can just take my virginity but doesn't have the decency to wake up with me in the morning? Well I shan't be taking it easy on him._ Straightening from her supine position, she stretched and flexed her sore muscles, some muscles to her chagrin, she noticed had never ached before.

After eliciting Winky's help in procuring her a much needed bath, she magically dried her hair and dressed in a simple gown, prepared to hunt for Tom. _He better just be getting us breakfast or something._

She went down stairs, doing a quick scan of the first floor, before donning her cloak and heading outside. The day was surprisingly warm for December and she was content to stroll the grounds. It seemed everyone was out today as she spotted servants going about doing various tasks on the grounds.

With a skip to her step, she walked around the pond and garden that was sadly not looking as lively as when she first arrived at Riddle Manor some months before. She kept walking until her feet brought her to the stables, and she decided to drop in and visit the animals housed there.

Rounding the corner, she came through the door and spotted a servant tending to the horses.

"Hello," she greeted kindly.

The golden-haired servant whirled around and Hermione's stomach jumped in her throat when she immediately recognized his face.

"Vlain?" Disbelief colored her features, but the servant definitely bore a striking resemblance to the meddlesome Fae that brought her here.

He met her disbelieving gaze with the righteous fury of a vengeful angel. "That's right, fair witch. It's about time you've come to the stables."

"You've been here all this time?"

"I've kept a watchful eye over you," he deflected.

Her stomach turned completely at the realization it was quite possible the Fae knew of her activities the previous night. "I didn't know. I thought you'd abandoned me."

"You've seemed to get along quite well without my aid." Accusation was evident in his tinkling tone.

 _Okay, he definitely knows._ "Erm, I'm not sure if you knew this, but you sort of dropped me right into a situation where I was quickly and rather abruptly forced to be married. I didn't have much of a choice, you see."

Vlain scoffed. "Of course I realized this."

She blanched. "You did?"

He nodded. "What I fail to grasp is how you've already been in this time for over three months and have done nothing in the way of altering the horrible timeline from which I plucked you."

"I haven't?" She briefly squeezed her eyes shut as her mood plummeted.

"Sadly, no."

Feeling defensive, she was quick to retort, "It's not as if you provided me some sort of instruction manual for what I am to do here."

"No," the Fae agreed. "But you knew full-well who you were to target."

"The dark wizards?"

"Being?" Vlain prompted.

"Grindelwald, but I can't get to him. I'm biding my—"

"And?"

Hermione frowned. "Lord Voldemort?"

"Exactly. Seems you didn't need an instruction manual after all."

She paced alongside the mysterious Fae as he shoveled hay into the corner.

"But I have no idea who Lord Voldemort is. He hasn't made himself known yet," she explained patiently.

"No?" The Fae raised his eyebrows in mock sympathy. "Even when I dumped you right in his lap?"

"I...what?"

Vlain said nothing, but merely stared at her apathetically.

Her brain worked in overdrive to make sense of the impossible words. _He acts as though I already know him, as if I've met him, but I—_. A thought occurred to her, but she quickly dismissed it. _No, that's impossible. The universe isn't that twisted, not even to me._ The disturbing notion sent her mind into a tumultuous frenzy, as suddenly weeks of clues assaulted her.

 _His Legilimency makes my scalp prickle…._

 _His Cruciatus is familiar..._

 _There is no good and evil…_

 _The Death Eater mantra…_

She looked up at Vlain with wide and helpless eyes.

"You've worked it out, have you?"

"Say it isn't true!" Her head throbbed and she couldn't stop shaking.

"I had pegged you for less dense," the Fae told her, his inhuman eyes taking on a listless sheen.

Her husband, Tom Riddle, was the future Lord Voldemort.

"I...I—" and just as she had done upon arriving in this time, she felt herself slipping, spinning, and careening into indistinguishable darkness that quickly enveloped her senses. She fainted harmlessly onto the hay.

 **~oOo*oOo~**


	16. Chapter 16: The Phoenix

**A/N: Hey all! I'm back with another update. I wanted to mention real quick that this story was nominated in the Hermione's Haven Awards (Facebook) and won for Best Drama/Angst. Thanks to those that nominated/voted! I was super thrilled to get this news. I hope you like this chapter and happy reading C:**

 **Beta Love:** **sunshinealeia and SlytherinPrincessNurse1994 (TY, ladies!)**

 **Thanks to all those that followed, favorited, and the reviewers:** **DianneBaquiran, tneha, oslca35, Born in 20th Century, sunshinealeia, Infernalbooks, Alytiger, kanewolfe, mega700201, Angry Paradox, Annamonk, Fizzybaby8, pierrej92, Jen103, Lexi, Dinu, and the guests!**

* * *

 **~oOo*oOo~**

She didn't want to open her eyes, but her body was moving up and down in a rather jarring sort of way. It forced her into consciousness whether she wanted to be there or not, and she unwillingly came to, peaking her eyes open in annoyance as she tried to determine what it was that had awoken her.

She was initially struck by the glaring brightness of the sun.

It shined down on her in all its brilliance, provoking her dilated eyes and making them want to screw shut once more.

Bright and vibrant scenery assaulted her in every direction. The smell of wildflowers drifted into her nostrils. As agitated as she was about finding her sleep disturbed, she did feel strangely secure, and she couldn't fathom as to why. As feeling began to resurface, she instantly realized she was cocooned in strong warmth. She was pressed against a hardened chest and - _Merlin!_ \- she was being carried.

Along with the awareness came apprehension.

Her senses became on high alert as she tried to determine just what exactly was going on. Her mind felt uncharacteristically bare, and what a foreign feeling that was! _Come on, Hermione._ She worked hard to wrack her knackered mind. _Wake up, at the very least._ Taking a deep breath, she forced the threatening panic calm as she attempted to focus.

 _I was hungry. Breakfast! Why was I so hungry._ Her cheeks flamed crimson as she rather abruptly remembered the reason for her voracious morning appetite. _Sex, and gods but it was mind-blowing. And...the stables...to search...yes, I searched for Tom...but..._ it hadn't been Tom she found.

No, a certain golden-haired, long-lost Fae had appeared to her in his place, carrying the most dark and insidious news she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams.

She gulped at the terrifying reminder.

 _Lord Voldemort._

She was married to Lord Voldemort! Well, the future Lord Voldemort, anyway. Her husband and Lord of Riddle manor was nothing like the snake-eyed menace from _her time,_ at least not where looks were concerned, and he certainly couldn't be _as powerful_ as he was then. She would never have snarked off to him so much, and pushed his buttons so thoroughly, _had she known._

"Are you coming to, darling?"

Hermione swallowed discreetly at the sound of _that voice,_ as the reverberating feel of the words rumbling through his chest. Drawing on her legendary courage, she chanced a glance upwards and immediately found dark blue eyes, a cross between a dark shade of coal and the color of the evening sky, glaring down at her.

"Tom?" she ventured tremulously.

"Who else would it be?" He kept moving through long glades of grass towards the manor, _carrying her,_ because of course she had forgotten that minor detail.

Consumed by raw terror, she scrambled out of his arms in a shamefully ungraceful manner, before tumbling to the soft ground below, but she never took her eyes off of him.

His eyes widened marginally, and he had the audacity to let shock pass over his handsome features - _him!_ \- as if _she_ were something to be wary of. The notion was so idiotic she couldn't stop a nervous giggle from escaping her lips.

He'd of course already schooled his features, regardless of the presence of her mad laughter. "I found you in the stables, laying on the hay." His lips curled in disgust. "How plebeian." When she failed to react to the blatant quip, he continued undeterred. "Care to explain why you were passed out in the stables?"

All right.

 _Enough laughter._

This was life and death and if Hermione hoped to make it out on the _alive side_ , she couldn't simply jest her way there. She was in a rather precarious position, with the _most dangerous wizard in the world_ watching her intently. One misstep and she was done for.

"I fell asleep," she blurted, unable to lie as flawlessly as him. "I was tired," she amended.

"After sleeping ten hours?" His brows drew together in disbelief, but she could tell it was feigned - _scripted -_ everything with him was always an act.

 _But damn., that was...a good point._

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I was practicing magic as I often do whilst walking." The wheels in her head spun as she attempted to come up with a suitable reason for losing consciousness. "I was practicing the...Germinate spell, when I'd summoned too much magic and felt rather suddenly drained."

 _Damn if that wasn't a shoddy lie._

"You were...blooming something?"

"That's right."

"In the stables?"

 _Blast it all._ He was more suspicious than ever and acting so dodgy around him would only fuel his distrustful nature. She didn't get this far by being fearful! No, she guessed she rather _amused him_ by being anything but! Sodding hell, she needed time to work through it! She couldn't begin to imagine how it all worked _now._ She needed immediate solitude. But until then…

"Look," she declared recklessly as she straightened hastily to her feet. "I just got tired, all right? And the hay was soft and comfortable. And yes I was practicing wandless spells! I don't see why you're so concerned."

"You were _tired."_ His lips pulled in a roguish smirk, and he drew imperceptibly closer to her, causing a spine-tingling sensation to flare up in her back. "From last night?" The smile grew wider, and she realized to her horror that he was trying to be playful.

Any other day - any of the days _before_ she had known his true identity - she may have quipped something clever back to him, but today, she could only summon caution where he was concerned. "That's right." She busied herself by smoothing the wrinkles in her pale pink gown. "From that too," she gritted out, before whirling on her heels and facing back towards the manor.

He was suddenly _far too close._ "You don't have to be nervous," he whispered against the bared skin on the back of her neck, before brushing his nose against her hair. She shivered despite herself. "Not around me."

 _Do I ever!_

But this was good—he attributed her caginess to their time the night prior! Perhaps that would buy her the much needed time she needed to come up with a suitable strategy.

"I'm hungry," she said again. "I just want to see what Hokey has for lunch since _somebody_ made me miss breakfast." She walked as nonchalantly as she could, not bothering to see if Tom followed.

She needed time _alone,_ without his perceptive eyes watching her every move!

She needed to put the pieces together, to understand everything! Vlain had been right, she'd been so blind! Here he was giving her a monumental chance to do some good in this world and _change things_ and she had so far spent her time going to parties and _having sex._ It would never do. She thought she was being proactive in her efforts to befriend Piper, to get closer to Ginny and the Resistance, but the whole time it merely amounted to child's play when compared with just who she spent each day with at home!

 _Not anymore,_ she inwardly vowed. _I won't be wasting anyone's time. This is important and I'm through playing games._

She reached the steps of the manor and mentally determined in her head of how best to get rid of Tom—no—Voldemort. She had to stop thinking of him as _Tom._ That was innocent and unsuspecting. She needed to remember just how great of a threat he actually was—at all times. _I won't be forgetting it ever._

 **~oOo*oOo~**

Harry stood in the secret cellar of the Burrow, puzzling over the next Rune in the protection sequence he was etching. Where was Sirius when he needed him? Probably escorting Tonks somewhere or other. He did so have a soft spot for his orphaned cousin and if he wasn't with him then he was always with her.

He debated asking Ronald for help before remembering the wizard was more useless when it came to Ancient Runes than he was. Harry was left to his own devices, which was actually fine, he liked working alone, but it meant he would have to figure things out for himself.

It didn't matter.

War was in the horizon, unavoidable now, and he would be wasting no more time playing games or indulging Ginevra in her frivolous society functions. He knew she wouldn't put up too much of a fuss about it. She was a soldier, just like himself, and that was why they were so well-suited for each other. He was actually happy to have been able to give her even a small modicum of social normalcy, but now things were getting serious, and he could no longer focus his attention on anything else save his goal.

There would be time for parties and balls and marriages later, _much later,_ at least until after Grindelwald's defeat.

His mentor did not believe Riddle or his wife could ever be allies. Dumbledore's attitude towards the reining Pureblood families did not suggest he would be giving any second chances, but Harry had wished things were different. _Merlin, don't I have enough enemies to ward off._ If he was being honest, he would admit that he had some hope Riddle could be an ally instead of an enemy.

Somehow, during the Quidditch match and the Greengrass masquerade, Riddle had struck him as much more _human_ than he'd ever considered him to be. Even at Hogwarts, he'd struck Harry as a strange boy, stranger than himself if that was possible. It was odd because they actually had a lot in common.

Both orphans.

Both Half-Bloods.

Both supherb duelists.

Yet Riddle went out of his way to make sure Harry knew they were _anything but_ alike. Harry had attributed it to him being older, but that wasn't the case as he'd since go on to recruit wizards his own age in the illicit group Riddle created right under Dumbledore's nose. The Knights of Walpurgis were the most fearsome group of wizards in Hogwarts, even if no one knew the name of the gang.

Harry knew.

He always found out _everything._

Then there was the house issue. Harry a Gryffindor and Riddle a Slytherin, but then that didn't make much sense either as the Knights would go on to accept students from other houses in their ranks, even though Slytherin always dominated.

So why the feud?

Why was Harry singled out?

He learned to hate Riddle just as much as Riddle seemed to hate him. Two could play at that game. But then the Lestrange witch had entered the scene. It almost had seemed like Hermione was there to bridge the gap between _everything_ ; houses, blood status, social status, it didn't matter. And what was even more alarming, Riddle seemed to tolerate this! It forced Harry to see Riddle in a new light. It forced him to ask the question if Riddle could be an ally instead of his most sworn adversary.

Harry _wasn't foolish._

He was well aware how unfavorable his chances of standing against Grindelwald were—it could be potentially fatal on Harry's part. He was also aware he would not be getting anywhere close to the Minister without first getting through Riddle. It was a duel that seemed to be written in the stars—it was _bound_ to happen.

None of that mattered.

Something had happened at Hogwarts, almost as if it were fate. Riddle became Grindelwald's prodigy while Harry became Dumbledore's. Riddle somehow stood for Pureblood values and magic is might, while Harry championed Muggle rights and equality between magicfolk. It was a very clear divide, only recently blurred by the abrupt arrival of his wife.

Harry still did not know what to make of Hermione.

Would she be an ally or an adversary?

Judging by the way she dueled, he hoped for the latter. But there was no place for hope in a quickly-approaching war. The best thing Harry could spend his time doing, was preparing. He knew there would be no avoiding a battle, no matter how badly he wished for his loved ones to stay out of harm's way.

Spells would collide.

Dumbledore had convinced him of this with the most recent bit of news: the Order had secured the giants, thanks largely due Hagrid and his envoy, and they were one step closer to ending an age-old feud that spanned decades, ever since the founding of Hogwarts itself and the opposing views of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. They would discover once and for all which views would become unquestionable law, and which would be forgotten in history forever.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

The slap echoed furiously in the previously silent home. "You will not refuse me," her father raged. "I finally have found a use for you, and you will not ruin even this as you do everything you touch."

A lump formed in Piper's throat as the vicious words played over and over in her mind. "Father," she said pleadingly. "I cannot do what you ask of me! I can't inflict others with that which was forced onto me. How could I live with myself?"

"How do you live with yourself knowing you are the reason your mother is dead?" Fenir spat cruelly. Piper blanched at the reminder, unable to come up with a suitable any sort of answer to _that._ "Emotions have nothing to do with it," he continued, seemingly oblivious to her paralyzed state of fear. "We have been tasked with something and it's crucial that you don't fail me in this."

Piper blinked rapidly, her eyelids seeming to be the only muscle she had control over. Distantly, she noticed the smell of overcooked roast, signifying her stew was burnt, but she couldn't dredge up the feelings to care so long as her father continued screaming in her face.

Fenir paced, completely uncaring of the way his previously uttered words had tore a hole wide in her chest. "You don't realize the kind of people we are dealing with—they won't take no for an answer. The only way to please them is by going above and beyond what they asked. For Salazar's sake, I almost murdered his wife," he turned angry, unhinged eyes on her, "do you realize how serious the situation is? Nothing but perfection will be accepted."

 _Murdered his wife?_ Piper could think of only one witch crazy enough to traverse the woods at night. Apparently her father had crossed with one, Hermione Riddle. Despite her concern and fear, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride that a witch, of all people, had encountered her father and lived to tell the tale. Just the reminder of Lady, no Hermione Riddle's existence was enough to inject confidence in Piper's fragile countenance.

Finding her voice, she couldn't help but ask, "Did you hurt her?"

"Nothing fatal," Fenir dismissed. "Luckily Riddle caught me before I'd done more damage, but she was in the woods! Anyone in the woods after dark is fair game. Surely _His Lordship_ knows this.

Piper nodded tremulously, if only to have something to do.

"So Lord Riddle has asked this of you?"

It didn't seem _right._ His lovely wife did not seem to Piper to be the sort that tolerated such violence, such wickedness. She wished badly to seek Hermione out and ask her herself, but she couldn't summon the courage to approach Riddle manor uninvited, nor did she think herself capable of asking such a question aloud. It was a wonder she'd ever been sorted into Gryffindor house.

What was more, Piper had heard rumors about the Order, just things her father had let slip. She couldn't help but wonder if her friends - if Peter! - were apart of this resistance. Could she take such a decisive stance against them if they were? It had been several years, likely they had already gotten over the loss of her abrupt departure, but their friendship still meant so much to her! How could she ever do something to hurt anyone she cared about?

 _Like you hurt your mother,_ a voice in her head nagged. _Like you ripped her throat to shreds the first night you turned. You fought your father, as well, but you would never step to him again—coward!_

Visions of the fateful night swarmed her head. They were far from clear, as Piper could seldom remember anything from a change.

She remembered horrible pain.

She remembered her dress ripping from her back and claws tearing through her skin.

She remembered pure terror giving way to uncontained bloodlust.

It was all jagged images in her mind, feelings of rage and the urge to fight, but when she came to, she remembered clearly the brutal scene that met her eyes—how could she ever forget? Her father never let a day go by without reminding her,

Forcing her thoughts from that terrible day, she lifted her eyes back up to meet her father's manic ones. "You want us to find...Muggles and Muggle-borns...and _infect them?_ "

"That's what we are ordered to do, isn't it?"

Piper nodded stiffly. How could she continue arguing with him? Whether she liked it or not, the next full moon she would have to leave the safe confines of her chains and join her father in his diabolical mission. He would be sentient enough to be selective and even if he wasn't, no one reputable was ever caught in the dark in a full moon, save for the odd case of Hermione Riddle, and powerful wizards who had nothing and no one to fear. As much as she wanted to believe she would _never_ curse someone as she had been cursed, she couldn't make any promises in her wolf state. If her father released her, she would submit to her alpha and let her bloodlust guide her.

 **~oOo*oOo~**

The dynamic had changed.

Dear Merlin, _had he sensed it?_

She was acting different, _gods, but she couldn't help it_! There was no way he didn't notice the change. A tendril of fear flared up inside her chest as she went over every action with a fine-tooth comb. She'd rather be screaming and twisting under his Cruciatus curse than act as if she cared for him, as _if she desired him._

The whole thing was a colossal mess.

She had wracked her brain, asking herself what she usually did on a day at the manor? She would flounce around him, inject herself in his studies, spark a debate with him at lunch, ask him to teach her this or that...and she simply _wasn't_ doing that today.

 _Sweet Morgana, let him just think I'm acting flighty, that I'm nervous after being with him! Anything but the truth, gods, the truth would just be fatal for me._

She felt like a coward.

She could hardly make eye contact with the man she'd only hours before been screaming his name, riding him with abandon, and forcing him to growl out hers. Now what had she become? A frightened child! He would notice. Tom Riddle was _sharp,_ nothing escaped him.

It was so hard for her to fathom, _to reconcile_ , that this handsome man sitting beside her in the sitting room could possibly grow to be the most distorted, the most wicked, the most formidable wizard the world would ever know, complete with serpentine eyes and slits where his beautifully shaped nose should be. She actually found herself peering, _peering at him!_ As if there was some sign, some clue to how this would occur. It was maddening.

"Sometimes I want to simply use Legilimency on you," he informed her rather abruptly.

"What?" she faltered, her mind working frenetically to make sense of his words. "Tom, why would you ever wish to do that?" _That's better, more carefree and wistful._

"You are a mystery to me." He neglected to put his book down and she clutched her tome to her chest for dear life. Surely her knuckles must be white from the effort. "You stare at me whenever I'm not looking but when I look up, you avert your gaze."

"Oh." _Shit._ "Do I? I hadn't realized."

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you are fearful of me."

The worry she felt heightened measurably. "That's just silly, Tom."

 _You had a crumb on your face._

 _I was thinking of how attractive you are._

 _I was wondering how you could possibly turn into snake-eyes from my future._

No answer she could conjure was suitable, but she had to think of something!

"I was simply admiring you." She smiled sweetly.

He arched his brow, but said nothing. "Is that so? Then why are you sitting so far away?"

Tension flooded her face and limbs, making it difficult for her to act carefree as she knew she must. _Damn._ Why had she sat in the furthest possible sofa? That was very ill-advised. Of course he noticed. What _didn't_ he notice?

"I didn't want to invade your space," she lied. "I know how intent you are when you're reading."

"It's never stopped you before," he said dryly, but blessedly went back to reading the large book.

He was right of course. She had paraded in front of him as if she didn't have a fear in the world, even when everything about him should have caused her to tuck tail and run. But strangely enough, her action seemed to amuse her dark wizard of a husband. He came to appreciate her fearlessness, and accepted her as she was. Truthfully, he was probably the first person in the world to have done such a thing. And when she just upped and stopped doing it, stopped being her, of course he would have cause for concern.

Desperately keeping her voice as casual as possible, she let the words rush out of her mouth, "I think I'll go for a walk, Tom. It is lovely outside."

He furrowed his brows in displeasure. "I'd have thought you would want to stay away from the woods after last night."

"I won't be changing my routine over some wolf," she infused her voice with disdain. "Besides, it's neither night or a full moon, and I do like to find potion's ingredients for you."

"Especially after you took so many liberties with my things."

"Exactly." She drew herself up on wobbly feet. "I'll just be getting my cloak—."

"Not so fast." His stare alone was enough to halt her.

Terror shrilled through her as she met his dark gaze. "What's wrong, Tom?"

His eyes were black, how could she ever have thought them to be blue? Flecks here and there, _maybe_ , but gods, his dark gaze was terrifying!

"You haven't given me a goodbye kiss." He looked up at her expectantly.

She resisted the urge to ball her hands into fists. _Yes, this is natural, a very normal request, just go over there and do it._ Even though her legs felt as heavy as lead, she forced herself to walk steadily over to where he sat sprawled on the settee.

Moving slowly and with measured control, she brought herself forward until the front of her dress brushed his legs, then she bent in half, dipping her head down to place a chaste kiss on his lips. She had told herself she wouldn't feel anything, _promised herself!_ What kind of monster would she be if she felt desire for _a monster?_ But not dissimilar to the prior night, she felt a spark of electricity shiver down her spine and awaken her every nerve ending.

It wasn't fair for a man to be _so charming….so witty….so clever….so devastatingly handsome!_ How _wrong_.

It was only thanks to sheer discipline that she managed to keep the kiss sweet and fleeting, stopping herself from deepening it as she wished to. She really should be nominated for Sainthood. It was only thanks to her knowledge of the future that she kept herself from melting on top of him in a puddle of need.

She broke away, mildly smug she was able to keep more passionate feelings at bay. She really should read more into Pureblood marriage traditions. It clearly was only due to the binding ceremony that she struggled in the first place.

She had almost straightened to her full height - been that close to freedom! - before he pulled her back roughly, catching her lips in a brutal kiss she couldn't help but respond to. Smugness rushed from her features to be replaced by a frenzied need that equally repulsed and intrigued her. His fingers arranged themselves around her jaw and he held her steadily, seeming to sense how cagey she was prone to be thanks to the panic that battled ferociously with desire.

He really did taste quite decadent.

Could she be blamed if she opened her mouth, submitting to the coaxing action of his tongue? His favor was exquisite, and she recklessly let the pleasant smell of him invade her nostrils.

She was uncomfortable so she let his right hand guide her hips down to sit securely on his lap. She felt chilled so she welcomed the feel of his arms as they wrapped around her, too caught up in his demanding kiss to realize she was now locked in a death grip. His hair was soft so she carded her fingers through it, how could she not? The silky black tresses felt luxurious on her fingertips. His tongue slipped over hers, pulling her into a dance that took all her attention. She couldn't focus on anything else except…

The voice.

It was small but somehow yelling.

How could something so quiet be yelling?

The more she thought about it, the more she tuned into it, and the more she _heard_ it.

 _Voldemort._

 _Voldemort._

 _Voldemort._

It was like dousing ice cold water over her body. She broke away quickly, panting shallowly. "Tom," she stammered. "My walk, remember?"

Tom sighed, but didn't relinquish his grip. "Fine," he relented, then reached down to nuzzle her neck, darting his tongue out over her pulse point. "But you will return soon?" The whisper against her skin sent sparks down her spine. She couldn't hold back a whimper.

"Mhm," she mumbled unintelligibly. He let her get up this time, and she turned away from him, unsure if he was still evaluating her. She walked dazedly to the door before stepping quickly out of it and breathed in sweet, fresh air.

The tears welled up in her eyes then, tears she had kept at bay for far too long. She couldn't even remember the last time they'd threatened to spill. She wasn't even a safe distance from the manor before they started falling. She walked blindly into the sanctuary of the woods, giggling madly at the notion she'd only just thought of werewolves were the most frightening thing she could face. She now knew of someone far more frightening.

What kind of a person was she? That she would actually _feel something_ when she was forced to kiss the man that was her enemy, that would grow to be the wizard everyone feared, who tortured and killed mercilessly? And she was _enjoying it_ , even after she knew the truth! Sorrow washed over her. She felt ashamed and horrible. How would she ever get through this? What was worse? Being at the Malfoy's mercy in the future, or being at _his_ in the past?

Of course she knew the answer.

She was really acting rather childish. _You ninny, this isn't about you, it's about the whole world. Suck it up and do whatever you need to do to get through it. You can feel sorry for yourself later._

Her feet took her to her favorite spot by the river of their own accord. She sat down on the wet bank, only just noticing she'd neglected to bring her cloak. Tom would kill her if she showed back up without a cloak. That thought sent a crazed giggle tumbling from her mouth.

 _Kill her indeed._

She was crying and laughing on a chilly riverbank. Thank Merlin there was no one to witness it. She was a mess and for the first time ever, she had no idea how to proceed.

With Vlain's mission.

Her marriage.

Her relationship with her friends and feigned parents.

She was at a _total and utter_ loss.

Whatever decision she made always seemed to end in catastrophe. There was no reference manual for this. She was half-tempted to confess everything to Riddle and hope that he took pity on her, giving her a quick and painless death. She wouldn't have to worry about the hopeless situation then, would she? But Riddle would never take pity on a Muggle-born in the first place. Another mad notion to add to the many she'd had that day.

She laughed again, a crazed and dejected sound, mingling with her sniffling, as she tried to wipe the tears with her sleeves.

Only the phoenix was there to witness her descent into madness, to see her enter into the realm of pathetic hopelessness.

Damn but the bird seemed more intelligent than some people she knew. Twinkling blue eyes stared at her intently and somehow knowledgeable, even from across the stream and a tree branch away, she could detect an almost human awareness in it's gleaming orbs.

She stopped crying and stopped giggling, her curiosity overshadowing her fear. "Will you be my friend? I could desperately need one right about now." She smiled softly at the majestic creature. It probably thought her mad too, just like everyone else in this horrible place, and they were all probably right.

But then it did something.

It flew off of the branch it perched on and landed on the ground just across the stream from her.

It was a large bird.

The air around it's wings began to reverberate with an unseen energy. She sensed powerful magic and then watched with wide eyes as the phoenix began to shift and morph in front of her very eyes. Claws gave way to feet. A feathered torso gave way to a human chest and abdomen. The sharp blue eyes receded into a very human face. They twinkled with what could only be described as mischief.

She blinked once and blinked again.

The phoenix she'd grown used to seeing in the woods had changed into a wizard, _an old wizard_ , complete with grey robes and a matching hat. His red beard stood out starkly against the otherwise plain and drab apparel.

"A friend?" The wizard queried. "I often take strolls through the woods to collect my thoughts. You never know who you may meet along the way, or what friendships can be forged."

Confusion flooded her thoughts and she briefly squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to will herself calm. Had she ousted herself? Could the man be trusted? Did he mean her harm? So many questions begged to issue from her lips. She couldn't help but wonder if she faced a new threat she would need to defend herself against. _It's okay,_ she consoled herself. _How can it possibly get any worse?_

 **~oOo*oOo~**


End file.
